~ With Piccolo ~
Piccolo staggered backward, blood spilling from his mouth as a swarm of Burter's duplicates besieged him. Each illusion pummeled him brutally, sending him ricocheting from one to another like a pinball. This unending attack had persisted for the past five minutes, pushing Piccolo to the edge of his limits.
"How do you like my speed mirages? I call them mirages, except... they're not really mirages."
The clones moved in perfect synchronization, making it almost impossible for Piccolo to discern the real Burter from the rest or to identify which one had spoken.
Piccolo frowned and ignored Burter. The taunt held no weight—he knew it was merely a psychological ploy to break him mentally and force his surrender.
Summoning the last reserves of his energy, he steadied himself and thrust his arms outward to either side. In the next moment, he unleashed a powerful kiai, sending a shockwave of energy rippling outward. The Burter clones shattered into nothingness, granting Piccolo a moment of fleeting but much-needed peace.
"You just don't get it, do you?" Burter hollered from nearby, his voice ringing across the battlefield. He lounged on a small heap of rubble nearby, feet swinging lazily as he cupped his hands around his mouth to make himself heard.
"That doesn't work on me, Big Green!"
Piccolo wiped the blood from his mouth and blinked away the purple staining his vision. The exhaustion was becoming nearly unbearable, but one thought kept resonating in his mind: Nappa was right. This battle couldn't be won with brute strength, speed, or even surprise alone. Each one of those tactics had already been tested—and failed—against Burter.
He needed a more clever approach, one that demanded a level of creativity he hadn't fully explored before. Ajax's advice echoed in his mind, something he'd heard countless times during their training sessions in the Time Chamber: "Be creative. Think outside the box."
As he replayed the entire fight in his mind, analyzing every move and every moment, a daring new strategy began to take shape. It was bold and risky, but it just might give him the edge he needed.
Drawing on every ounce of his remaining energy, Piccolo let out a fierce roar. He focused intently, his aura blazing as he powered up to the max.
"TAKE THIS!"
On the other side of the battlefield, Burter raised an eyebrow. With his arms crossed, he casually hopped off the pile of rocks he'd been lounging on and observed with mild amusement as Piccolo readied his next move.
Burter seemed intrigued by his strategy, or at least that was what Piccolo surmised—otherwise, the alien would have already slammed him into another heap of rubble.
Piccolo's arms moved as blurs as he fired a rapid barrage of energy blasts into the air. The attacks scattered out in all directions toward Burter, resembling a swarm of glowing fireflies.
But despite the impressive display, Burter did not look impressed.
His expression remained disinterested as his eyes tracked the erratic pattern of the blasts. With a casual tilt of his head, Burter allowed one of the energy blasts to pass harmlessly through the space where his head had just been moments before.
Burter's disappointment seemed to grow as Piccolo's energy barrage continued, most of them missing him by a significant margin.
Piccolo keenly watched every subtle shift in Burter's expression. He knew exactly what his opponent must be thinking: this was just a desperate tactic used by weaker fighters who lacked the strength to put up a serious challenge.
That assumption would prove to be Burter's undoing.
It was time.
Piccolo abruptly stopped firing and let out a fierce yell as he flexed his arms, as if trying to physically pull something toward him.
In perfect sync with his effort, the energy blasts scattered throughout the air suddenly came to a standstill. They floated motionless, suspended in the air like countless tiny candle flames, casting eerie shadows across the battlefield with their soft glow.
Burter's eyes widened, and his jaws dropped.
Now that the energy blasts had stopped moving, the seemingly random attacks had formed a pattern—a large, spherical cage that surrounded Burter on all sides. No matter which direction the Ginyu Force member tried to move, floating blasts blocked his path.
It was a carefully crafted trap, designed to restrict Burter's movements and drastically limit his options. Burter's arms, previously folded casually, dropped to his sides as he stared at the cage in shock.
For the first time in the battle, Burter scowled. And for the first time in the fight, Piccolo allowed himself a smirk.
Piccolo grunted as he pulled his arms back, causing the energy blasts, previously dispersed in a spherical formation, to slowly drift toward him. As the sphere tightened, the gaps between the orbs shrank, steadily closing off any possible escape routes.
Piccolo's strategy was working—he could see the realization dawning on Burter as the containment sphere continued to contract. It wouldn't be long before the spaces between the orbs would become too narrow for someone of Burter's stature to squeeze through.
Of course, neither Burter nor Piccolo were particularly daunted by the individual floating orbs—one alone wouldn't do much damage. But being hit by hundreds of them, all at once? That would hurt.
A lot.
Burter wasted no time launching his counterattack. He propelled himself toward Piccolo with lightning speed, blue electricity crackling across his body. However, his approach was anything but direct. He zigzagged through the air, unable to follow a straight trajectory due to the scattered floating orbs.
Despite his erratic movements, Burter's eyes never left Piccolo. The promise of pain was unmistakable in his gaze—there were no more traces of playfulness left.
Burter approached blazingly fast, but the small, calculated detours he was forced to take consumed precious time. This slight delay provided Piccolo with just enough of an opening to employ a well-used, Earth-specific tactic.
"Solar Flare!" A blinding flash of light erupted from Piccolo's hands, flooding the battlefield with an intense radiance.
The sheer intensity of the light was overwhelming, catching Burter completely off guard. His vision was seared by the sudden flare, and he cried out in pain as his focus on Piccolo spectacularly backfired.
Blinded by the flash, Burter's senses were overwhelmed, and his sense of direction was entirely lost. The radiant burst not only incapacitated his vision but also effectively camouflaged the floating ki spheres, making them nearly invisible against the backdrop of the dazzling light.
Disoriented and unable to assess his surroundings, Burter's unparalleled speed became a disadvantage as he hurtled forward.
Unable to stop or alter his course, he crashed into multiple floating ki spheres. The impacts triggered a series of explosions powerful enough to set off an escalating chain reaction among the nearby ki spheres. The resulting cacophony of fiery explosions transformed the entire area into a volatile maelstrom.
At that very moment, Piccolo seized the opportunity to flash into the chaos to close the gap between himself and Burter. This was the single largest opening throughout the entire battle thus far, and he was determined to make the most of it.
Piccolo swiftly located Burter within the explosions and, with a decisive move, wrapped his arms around the large alien's waist from behind. It was a daring move, but it was exactly what Piccolo needed. His Ki levels surged dramatically.
"Hey! What the—!" Burter started, bewildered as he tried to understand what was happening.
His words were abruptly cut off by Piccolo's resolute shout.
"HYPER EXPLOSIVE DEMON WAVE!!"
Piccolo, for the lack of better words, used Explosion. It was super effective.
The explosion unleashed tremendous force, sending a wall of searing heat and destructive energy outward. The blast upended the landscape for miles around and filled the air with its roar. The intense heat scorched the planet's blue grass, causing it to wither and turn a crispy, charred black.
And the two of them had been at the epicenter.
***
A blue blur shot out of the center of the explosion, coming to a halt just beyond the destruction. It was Burter, his body covered in nasty burns. His once-pristine armor was mostly gone, reduced to tattered scraps barely hanging from his left shoulder by a thin strip of fabric.
Panting heavily, he grimaced as he surveyed the aftermath. His first instinct was to check the state of his limbs, and to his relief, they were all intact. However, he was surprised to discover he had somehow ended up with an extra one.
Apparently, in his rush to escape, he had torn off one of the Namekian's arms.
At least there was a small silver lining to the disastrous attack: his enemy was down an arm.
With a look of disgust, Burter tossed the green arm aside. It dropped to the ground with a dull thud, landing among the debris unceremoniously.
Burter carefully wiped the blood from his right eye, where shards of glass from his shattered scouter had embedded themselves around his eye socket. The explosion had completely obliterated the device—not that Burter had expected it to survive an attack of that magnitude.
He stood among the lingering haze, dust swirling around him like a ghostly veil. With his scouter rendered useless, Burter had lost his primary means of tracking his opponent. Attacking blindly was out of the question; the smokescreen obscured his vision, making it impossible to locate his enemy's position.
Beyond that, he preferred to use this much-needed reprieve to recover, tend to his wounds, and plan his next move.
Time seemed to stretch as he waited; his senses heightened to their maximum. Every sound, every subtle change in the air was analyzed with razor-sharp focus. He remained utterly still, barely breathing, his eyes methodically scanning the murky surroundings like a predator.
The minutes dragged on.
Eventually, the dust began to thin, the once-thick curtain lifting just enough to reveal faint shapes and shadows within. Despite the blood clouding his vision, Burter's keen eyes spotted a shadow within the clearing smoke.
Burter's eyes were locked onto his enemy, who had somehow survived. The fact that the Namekian still had both arms barely registered in his mind. What mattered now was his enemy's stance and the ominous energy gathering at their fingertips. His opponent had placed a finger to their forehead, from which a yellow, pulsating orb crackled with electricity.
It looked like a nasty attack.
Burter's eyes narrowed; it was clearly a formidable technique, but even the most terrifying attacks are worthless if they miss their mark.
"I'll admit I underestimated you. I got arrogant and played around too much." Burter's lip curled into a sneer. "But now I'll get serious, which is bad news for you because this battle is finished. Next time you wake up, it'll be under Lord Frieza's tender care!"
Piccolo smirked.
"Yes, the battle IS over. It ended the moment you gave me time."
"Because of this attack you've been charging and flaunting to me? Don't you get it? Even the most powerful attacks are worthless if they can't hit their target! And You. Can't. Hit. Me!" Burter spat with defiant rage. As he spoke, his body began to vibrate, his eyes glowing a fierce, electric blue.
Piccolo remained unfazed.
"You're wrong. I will," Piccolo responded softly, his voice almost a whisper. He floated upward with calm grace, rising to match his opponent's altitude. As he ascended, the pulsating energy orb at his fingertips crackled ever more intensely. "Go ahead and try to dodge this one. No matter how fast you are, you won't be able to."
Burter was deeply aggrieved by Piccolo's confidence. He was eager to bury his enemy six feet under, but his desire to prove that Piccolo's confidence was misplaced was even stronger.
Cause, bitch, aside from the earlier incident, he had never failed to evade an attack, and he wasn't about to start now.
With steely focus, Burter kept his eyes fixed on Piccolo's fingertips, waiting for the moment the Namekian would unleash his attack. He watched warily as Piccolo raised his other hand and snapped his fingers in a decisive motion. Burter's muscles tensed in preparation, every fiber of his being concentrated on dodging the frontal assault.
And that was the precise moment when a powerful blast slammed into his back, jolting him and leaving him stunned. The impact sent a wave of pain through his body, and he let out a roar of agony. Instinctively, he spun around to confront the source of the attack.
His eyes widened in shock as he identified the source of the attack: the Namekian's severed arm, which he had tossed aside earlier, was now floating in mid-air. The palm of the detached limb was still smoking, clear evidence of the attack it had just unleashed.
Telekinesis?!
The unexpected nature of the attack left Burter stunned for exactly one second, but as an elite warrior with years of experience, he was quick to shake off the shock. His instinct kicked in, reminding him that his true enemy was still very much a threat and was positioned directly behind him.
This is still not enough to catch him off guard!
Out of the corner of his eye, Burter saw Piccolo's other hand extending toward him like an elastic band being pulled taut. The Namekian's arm was already halfway across the distance between them and would reach him in another second.
But to Burter, a second was an eternity.
"Nice try, but not good enough, Namekian!"
Burter shot into a high-speed maneuver to evade Piccolo's attack, but his movement was abruptly interrupted as an overwhelming, earth-shattering pain seized his head. The agony felt like a combination of piercing shrieks, migraines, concussions, and brain freezes converging all at once.
The torment was so intense that a guttural scream dragged itself out of his throat, and his hands instinctively clutched his head in a desperate effort to alleviate the suffering.
Burter immediately recognized the pain, having faced similar mental assaults before while sparring with Guldo. But this time, his teammate wasn't here to shield or lessen the impact of such an attack. And that meant he was left completely vulnerable to the full force of the psychic assault.
The intense mental assault left Burter dazed for exactly one more second.
Then it was over.
The Namekian's limbs coiled tightly around him, binding him tightly from neck to foot like the constricting embrace of a massive python.
Burter struggled with all his might, but the more he writhed, the tighter Piccolo's grip became. The constriction was absolute—he couldn't move a single inch!
Piccolo began to retract his arms, pulling Burter closer until the gap between them vanished and they were face to face–until Burter could see the cold, lethal intent in Piccolo's eyes.
"All that talk about speed," Piccolo said with a hint of scorn. "Maybe you should put more faith in physical strength."
Burter continued to struggle desperately, smoke billowing as he tried to fire energy blasts in a futile attempt to break free. The blasts sizzled and flared, but Piccolo merely tightened his hold, ignoring the burns that marred his arms.
"What was it you said?" he asked casually. "The strongest attacks are worthless if they can't hit their target?"
He let the words hang in the air.
Boring his eyes into Burter's, Piccolo raised his other hand and pointed his Special Beam Cannon so close to Burter that the tip of his fingers nearly brushed against Burter's forehead.
"But you forgot one thing."
Then came the final, chilling piece of advice.
"Speed is also worthless if you can't use it."
"NOOOOOOOO!!"
Piccolo fired the Special Beam Cannon mere millimeters away from Burter's forehead. The beam that had once claimed Goku's life traveled that laughably minuscule distance and slammed into Burter's skull.
It drilled through flesh and bone, piercing all the way through to the other side and continuing on into the distance.
Burter died instantly, his body slumping lifelessly.
After confirming his enemy's death, Piccolo slowly unwounded his arms from Burter's corpse. The once-elite warrior fell to the ground like a stone, landing with a heavy thud—a far cry from the fierce, agile fighter he had been moments ago.
Piccolo took a deep breath to steady himself after the intense battle, then refocused his mind on his next priority: Gohan.
With renewed resolve, Piccolo turned away from his fallen foe and flew off.