Dragon Ball Human

Inside the Furnace of Eight Divisions, sensing external energy was nearly impossible. 

Yamiru had no idea where the furnace—or Annin—was. As for Sherie, even if the angel stood right in front of him, he wouldn't detect her presence. 

Shaking off the disorientation of returning to his weaker body, he quickly readjusted. His condition was surprisingly stable—whether due to Sherie's intervention or the furnace's innate properties, he couldn't tell. 

Soon, he noticed unusual marks on the furnace's inner walls. Claw-like gouges, as if some terrifying beast had been trapped inside, unleashing unimaginable power—enough to scar even this divine artifact. 

'The last time I was here was during the battle with Demon King Samuel...' But since then, Annin hadn't sealed any monsters or demons within. 

'Something must have happened while I was in Yamoshi's body.' 

Memories from a month ago resurfaced, giving Yamiru a clue. 

He activated his flight technique and soared out of the furnace. The serene atmosphere inside starkly contrasted with the outside world—a miasma of decay and corruption worse than anything he'd seen in this era. 

Scanning the area for Annin's energy, he suddenly whipped around. 

She stood silently at the edge of the enlarged furnace's mouth, opposite where he'd exited. 

Her expression was… unsettling. 

Head bowed, she stared into the furnace with a mix of longing and revulsion. 

For the first time, Yamiru sensed something from her he never expected—the taint of a demon. Not the hellish energy he wielded, but the stench of a fallen mind. 

Unlike Yamiru's demonic transformation, which harnessed the underworld's turbid energy while resisting its corruption, what radiated from Annin now was pure spiritual decay. 

'No wonder I couldn't sense her earlier.' 

As Yamiru observed her, Annin—still fixated on the furnace—noticed him. 

Her gaze was not one he recognized. At least, not entirely. 

His presence seemed to delay some grim decision. With a snarl, she lunged at him. 

Her speed defied comprehension. 

The afterimage of her by the furnace lingered on his retina, but she'd already vanished from sight. 

Yamiru's shoulder exploded under her strike, blood spraying in a crimson arc as he hurtled hundreds of meters into the murky air. He didn't even hear the impact—the sound lagged behind, still near the furnace. 

The force nearly knocked him unconscious. 

Wind roared past as searing pain finally registered. Gritting his teeth, golden light flared in his eyes—the transcendent power he'd wielded in Yamoshi's body surging within him. 

Simultaneously, torrents of underworld energy flooded his veins at his command. Black scales armored his skin, his shattered shoulder reassembling itself like snapped-together blocks—stronger than before. 

Whoosh. 

The Yamiru being sent flying became a mere afterimage, flickering mid-air. 

Drip… 

A single drop of his blood fell from Annin's hand toward the furnace below. She tracked it absently, the plink as it hit the bottom echoing memories of her own torment within. 

"Don't want to lose your demonic nature by going back in?" Yamiru's voice cut through the haze. "Let me help." 

Yamiru's voice suddenly echoed behind her. 

In her dazed state, Annin turned—only to see a black-scaled hand, radiating even greater power than her own attack, and behind it, a pair of golden eyes filled with familiar, unwavering resolve. 

BANG! 

In his draconic form, Yamiru pressed his palm against the back of Annin's head, driving her down into the Furnace of Eight Divisions with tremendous force. A deafening crash followed as half of Annin's face was slammed into the furnace floor, leaving a crater in the divine metal. 

The furnace's otherworldly laws activated, eroding the demonic energy from both the demonic dragon and the fallen warrior—whether in body or soul. Yamiru's black scales receded, and Annin's pained expression gradually softened. Sweat poured from her like a torrent, her face now etched with lingering fear. 

"You can let go now, Yamiru." 

Still pinned face-first to the furnace floor, Annin spoke in a hoarse voice to the man on her back. 

"Not like I could hold you down in this state anyway," Yamiru chuckled, rolling off her and sitting beside her with an exhausted sigh. "Now, care to explain what happened?" 

Annin pulled her head out of the cracked floor, wincing as she rubbed her sore face. She slumped next to him. "After you fell unconscious, Master told me not to worry about you, so I stored you inside the furnace and continued toward Abaddon, the nearest Demon King." Her gaze drifted to the scars on the furnace walls, and for a moment, she fell silent. 

"The eerie mist from those insect demons plants a demonic seed in the heart," Yamiru continued for her. "I'm guessing when you faced Abaddon, that seed was triggered." 

"I'm certain I never inhaled that mist," Annin said. "But it doesn't matter. If his minions could do it, Abaddon could easily replicate the effect… His true form was a physical construct of that mist—barely capable of direct attacks, but far harder to deal with." 

After a pause, Annin stood, tracing the marks on the furnace walls. "After I was corrupted, I immediately retreated inside the furnace to purify myself. It was… unpleasant, but it always worked." 

"But after being corrupted again and again, this time, the demonic part of you resisted returning to the furnace," Yamiru said slowly. "The tainted side of you refused to fade away." 

If evil alter egos were so easily purged, that prodigious Namekian—the one the Elder had deemed equal to a Super Saiyan—wouldn't have resorted to splitting his soul at such a cost. 

Annin was silent for a long moment. "That's about right. But no matter how much that evil version of me struggles, I'd still choose to return to the furnace in the end. That's just…" She cut herself off abruptly. 

An odd tension filled the air. 

Black eyes met gold as their gazes occasionally crossed in the dim furnace light. Yamiru grew even more certain of a suspicion he'd long held. 

"You can look down on me," Annin suddenly said, her voice distant. "But don't pity me." 

Yamiru smirked. "I'll pity you if I want to." 

"Oh my, who's being pitied~?" 

Sherie's voice rang out above them. Perched on the furnace's edge, she swung her slender legs playfully, peering down at them with amused curiosity.