The first exchange lasted less than a heartbeat, and nearly ended the fight before it began.
Vista's broken blade met Doflamingo's initial string barrage in a shower of sparks, the swordsman's form blurring as he weaved between razor-thin threads that could slice through steel like paper. His movements were poetry in motion, each step calculated, each parry precise, the muscle memory of decades spent perfecting his art.
But Doflamingo was no ordinary opponent.
"Five Color Strings!"
Five nearly invisible threads shot from the Warlord's fingertips like bullets. Vista's blade became a silver streak, deflecting four of them in a display of superhuman reflexes, but the fifth grazed his cheek, drawing first blood.
"Fufufufu! Beautiful!" Doflamingo cackled, his fingers dancing through the air like a conductor. "Dance for me, flower-boy! Show me that legendary grace!"
"Rose Rondo!"
Vista's counterattack came without warning, his broken sword traced elegant arcs through the air, each cut precise enough to part silk, fast enough to blur. The technique created a defensive barrier of steel that forced Doflamingo to leap backward, his coat billowing as he narrowly avoided losing an arm.
"Magnificent! But can you handle this?"
"Parasite!"
Invisible strings shot from Doflamingo's fingers, seeking to attach to Vista's limbs. The swordsman spun, his blade cutting through the control strings before they could find purchase, but the effort forced him to give ground.
"Spider's Web!"
Doflamingo's hand swept in a wide arc, and suddenly threads erupted from every surface, walls, rubble, fallen debris, all converging on Vista's position. The swordsman found himself in the center of a three-dimensional maze of death.
"Petal Dance!"
Vista's response was breathtaking. His blade moved in a complex pattern that seemed to defy physics, cutting through dozens of strings simultaneously while his body flowed like water between the remaining threads. Rose petals seemed to trail his blade's edge, whether real or illusion, even he wasn't sure anymore.
"Getting serious now?" Doflamingo's grin widened impossibly. "Good! Overheat!"
Thick strings wrapped in Armament Haki lashed out like whips, each one capable of cutting through solid steel. Vista met them head-on, his own Haki-coated blade ringing like a bell as it parried strike after strike.
The plaza around them began to disintegrate under the force of their battle. Stone cracked, metal bent, and the very air seemed to vibrate with lethal energy.
Vista pressed his advantage, launching into his signature combination. "Blue Rose Waltz!"
His broken sword became a blue-tinted blur, each strike flowing into the next like a deadly dance. Doflamingo's eyes widened as he was forced to create increasingly complex string barriers, his casual demeanor finally cracking under the pressure of Vista's relentless assault.
One strike slipped through, a shallow cut across Doflamingo's cheek that drew a thin line of blood.
"First blood to me," Vista said quietly, his breathing steady despite the intensity of their exchange.
Doflamingo touched the cut, staring at the crimson on his fingertips with something approaching wonder. "Incredible... it's been so long since anyone managed that."
His grin returned, but now it carried a predatory hunger that hadn't been there before.
"Let me return the favor. Bullet String!"
Compressed strings shot from his fingertips like bullets, forcing Vista into a desperate defensive pattern. The swordsman's blade moved faster than the eye could follow, deflecting projectile after projectile, but he couldn't block them all.
One pierced his shoulder. Another grazed his thigh. A third nearly took his eye.
"String Geyser!"
The stones beneath Vista's feet erupted as strings burst from underground, seeking to impale him from below. He leaped, twisted in midair, his blade carving through the ascending threads, but landed off-balance.
Doflamingo seized the opening. "Now!"
Five different colored strings, each representing Haki enhancement, converged on Vista from impossible angles. The swordsman's eyes widened as he realized he couldn't possibly deflect them all.
In that moment of crisis, Vista's true mastery revealed itself.
"Sword of Sorrow - Falling Petals!"
His broken blade moved in a pattern that seemed impossible, a single, flowing motion that created afterimages of steel. Each afterimage intercepted one of Doflamingo's enhanced strings, the technique requiring perfect timing and absolute precision.
Four strings were severed. The fifth, unable to maintain its trajectory, whistled harmlessly past Vista's ear.
Doflamingo's eyes widened behind his sunglasses. "That technique.."
"It's mine," Vista replied, his breathing heavy but his voice steady. "Forged in a hundred battles, perfected in a thousand more."
The swordsman pressed his advantage, launching into a technique that made the air itself sing.
"Flower Sword: Eternal Garden!"
His broken blade traced patterns in the air that left glittering afterimages, not rose petals this time, but an entire garden of light that surrounded Doflamingo. Each afterimage was a potential strike, each glimmer a promise of death.
Doflamingo found himself on the defensive for the first time, creating string barriers in all directions as Vista's technique created attacks from impossible angles. The garden of light contracted, each afterimage becoming a real strike that the Warlord had to counter.
"Damn it!" Doflamingo snarled, his casual demeanor finally cracking. "No one should be able to.."
His words were cut short as Vista's blade, moving through the center of the garden pattern, scored a deep gash across his shoulder.
"Second blood," Vista said quietly, but his breathing was becoming labored. Such techniques demanded everything he had.
Doflamingo touched his wounded shoulder, his expression shifting from amusement to genuine respect. "You... you're actually magnificent. I understand now why Whitebeard treasured you."
The Warlord's stance changed, his casual posture replaced by focused intensity.
"But even flowers wilt. Awakening: Ever White!"
The very stone beneath their feet began to transform into strings, the plaza itself becoming Doflamingo's weapon. Massive waves of white threads erupted from the ground, each one thick as a man's torso and sharp as any blade.
Vista leaped, twisted, his blade cutting through strand after strand, but there were too many. His broken sword, already strained beyond its limits, began to show hairline fractures along its edge.
"Thousand Thread Funeral!"
The awakened strings rose like a tsunami of death, converging on Vista from every direction. The swordsman's eyes widened as he realized the truth, there was no escape, no technique that could counter this overwhelming assault.
But he was Vista the Flower Sword, Fifth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. He would not die cowering.
"Requiem of Roses!"
His final technique, one he had never used before, one he had hoped never to need. His broken blade moved in a pattern that defied description, cutting through reality itself, carving a path through Doflamingo's ultimate attack.
For a moment, it seemed like he might succeed. The tsunami of strings parted before his blade like water, his technique creating a brief sanctuary in the storm of death.
But even miracles have limits.
His broken sword, pushed beyond all endurance, finally shattered completely. Without a weapon, Vista's technique collapsed, and Doflamingo's awakened strings crashed down like a breaking wave.
When the dust settled, Vista knelt in the center of a crater, blood streaming from countless wounds. His hands were empty, his blade nothing but fragments scattered across the stones.
Doflamingo approached slowly, his own injuries evident but not fatal. "You actually made me use my awakening. Few can claim that honor."
Vista looked up, his eyes still fierce despite his broken body. "Pops... forgive me. I couldn't... bring them home."
"Don't apologize," Doflamingo said, his voice carried mockery. "You were everything I hoped for, and more."
The final string, thin as silk and sharp as death, slid through Vista's heart with surgical precision.
The Flower Sword fell forward, his final breath carrying a whispered word: "Pops..."
**************************************
While the two masters of violence painted the plaza with their deadly art, a different kind of performance was unfolding on the execution platform.
Luffy moved with desperate stealth, his rubber body compressing and extending. The chaos of Vista and Doflamingo's battle provided perfect cover, every eye was drawn to their spectacular duel, every Marine focused on the clash unfolding below.
Galdino had done his work well. The wax keys he had crafted were perfect replicas, down to the smallest detail.
"Hurry," he whispered, sweat beading on his forehead as he maintained his executioner's disguise. "They won't be distracted forever."
Luffy's hands shook as he worked the locks, his usual confidence replaced by desperate focus. Every second felt like an eternity. Every sound from the battle below made him flinch, expecting discovery at any moment.
Click.
The first shackle fell away.
Ace's eyes widened, hope and disbelief warring in his features. "Luffy... how did you...?"
"Stay still," Luffy hissed, working on the second lock. His observation, still raw and unawakened, screamed warnings at him from every direction. Too many powerful presences, too much danger, too little time.
Click.
The second shackle joined the first on the blood-stained platform.
Below them, the conclusion of the duel had reached its tragic end. Vista's broken form lay still among the shattered stones, his sacrifice complete, his honor intact.
Sengoku's enhanced awareness caught the shift in the battle's rhythm before his eyes did. His massive golden form turned from Garp's broken body toward the execution platform.
Ace was free.
Both brothers stood on the platform, Luffy's arm around his newly liberated brother.