[Crescent Burial!]
It was Diamante's signature technique—the only one that didn't rely on his Devil Fruit powers.
A pure sword skill.
Proof of his pride as a warrior.
"Tch. Devil Fruit users are such a pain."
White Flame's eyes glinted as he sidestepped the slicing shockwave.
The arena—split in half and fluttering like fabric—became his battlefield.
He leapt from one trembling slab of ground to another, his movements a blur.
After absorbing the strength of countless New World pirates, his speed had become inhuman.
A few dozen meters?
He crossed it in less than a heartbeat.
White Flame appeared right before Diamante, his five fingers curling into claws.
He drove his hand forward, straight for the man's heart.
"Trying to get close to me? Dream on! Hahahaha!"
Diamante laughed as his body instantly flattened into a fluttering banner.
Caught by the wind, he soared into the air and drifted toward the stands.
With the power of the Flag-Flag Fruit, he could float at will—dancing through the air like cloth in a storm.
"Arrogant fool."
White Flame's voice was ice.
"Little Two Black… your turn."
From the stands, a shadow moved.
A humanoid wraith of pure darkness erupted forward—faster than lightning.
Before Diamante could even react—
SHHHHRAK!
Agony tore through his back.
Blood sprayed into the air like crimson rain.
"Wh–What the hell…?!" Diamante gasped, coughing blood.
"My Observation Haki—why didn't it sense anything?!"
He twisted in disbelief.
"And my cape… it's steel! How did—how did it just—rip?!"
His voice shook.
The steel cloth forged with his fruit's power—supposedly uncuttable—had been shredded like paper.
He was a veteran warrior, one of the Donquixote Family's top executives.
He wielded both Armament and Observation Haki.
Yet he had been ambushed and gutted before he could even blink.
"Little Two Black, bring him to me."
At the command, the wraith shoved Diamante forward, sending him tumbling helplessly toward White Flame's waiting hand.
SPLRT.
White Flame's fingers plunged into his chest—
but stopped midway, blocked by a dense wall of hardened Haki.
Still, the impact sent Diamante flying like a cannonball.
He crashed through the spectator seats, collapsing entire rows of stone in an explosion of dust and debris.
"Armament Haki, huh?" White Flame murmured, his tone almost amused.
"Good." His eyes gleamed.
"Soon enough… that power will be mine too."
The arena had devolved into chaos.
Spectators screamed and scattered, trampling over each other to escape the slaughter.
The clash between the two monsters was beyond anything they could endure.
Rubble rained down.
Amid the dust, Diamante staggered to his feet, trembling and blood-soaked—but his eyes still burned with rage.
"I… I won't lose!" he screamed, veins bulging at his temples.
"I'm a top executive of the Donquixote Family! Doffy's most loyal blade! I will never be defeated by you!"
He bit down hard, his face twisting into madness.
"The honor of the Family will never fall to some filthy man-eating freak!"
He thrust his hand into his coat and pulled out a bundle of miniature cannons—party poppers, or so they looked.
A click.
A hiss.
They fired into the air—scattering hundreds of shimmering sheets of paper across the sky.
"At first, I didn't want to use this move," Diamante said through gritted teeth, smiling with blood on his lips.
"Because once it starts, I can't stop it. Everyone here will die!"
"But this is your fault! Their blood is on your hands!"
"Now DIE!"
[Death Stardust!]
The paper glittering in the air suddenly shifted—
each sheet morphing back into a jagged, spiked iron sphere.
An instant later, they plummeted like rain.
Thousands of them.
The arena filled with the roar of falling metal.
Each spike that hit the ground shattered stone.
Each spike that struck flesh ripped through bone and muscle.
No one inside could run.
No one could hide.
White Flame didn't move.
"Wrong," he said quietly.
"The one who dies… is you."
Before Diamante could react, his body locked up.
Two bandaged arms gripped his wrists.
Two more seized his legs.
Little Black and Little Two Black had pinned him in place—each limb held immovably by unseen claws of shadow.
No matter how he struggled, he couldn't move an inch.
White Flame kicked a few stones loose, leaping lightly onto them as they rose midair—stepping across them as if walking on air until he reached the stands.
He stood before Diamante.
"Two months ago," he said coldly, eyes glinting red, "you killed me once."
"Now—"
"It's my turn."
SPLURCH.
White Flame's hand drove straight through Diamante's chest, piercing his heart clean through.
"I… I don't accept this…"
Diamante's voice was a wet whisper.
His eyes filled with disbelief, pain, and burning hatred.
But the light within them faded—leaving only the dull gray of death.
White Flame withdrew his arm, blood dripping from his fingers, and looked down at the corpse—expressionless.
"He's dead! Diamante's dead!"
"No way… one of the top executives of the Donquixote Family—killed by that monster!"
"The family's untouchable… and he destroyed them! Run! If Diamante couldn't stop him, no one can!"
Panic spread through the surviving spectators.
White Flame didn't move.
Behind him, Little Two Black stood tall—its massive form shielding him from the storm of spiked iron balls raining from the sky.
Every projectile that came close simply vanished into its dark body.
"What's going on?! Why are there screams everywhere?!"
"Did Diamante unleash that technique again?!"
The voice came from the entrance.
A limping, toy-sized soldier—wood creaking with each step—stared wide-eyed at the carnage before him.
Kyros had finally arrived.
He'd been delayed, busy scolding the children who mocked Rebecca earlier that day.
But when he heard the man-eating monster had appeared in the Colosseum, he rushed over immediately.
Now, standing at the entrance, he froze.
Diamante's body lay cold and still at White Flame's feet.
The arena was painted red.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke.
Kyros's wooden fingers trembled.
"He… he really killed Diamante…"
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