But the arrow had already left the bow. Backing down now would only make him look worse.
"Come on!"
He raised his voice, as though trying to drown out that trace of unease inside him. "Let me show you who the real genius in this family is!"
Pica said nothing more.
He reached up to straighten the fabric at his collar, walked to the center of the arena, and spread his feet, knees slightly bent.
"Please."
Diamante's laugh was short and loud.
He flexed his knuckles, then kicked hard off the ground-
The rush of air reached him before the figure did.
It really did end quickly.
Diamante lay flat on his back, staring at the shadows of the beams beneath the training ground's roof.
He could not understand it.
That face looked so honest, yet he fought so viciously that he seemed like a different person.
He had honed his unarmed combat to this level, yet not a whisper of it had gotten out before.
"Are you... all right?"
Pica's voice came from above, tinged with hesitation.
Diamante sprang into a sitting position and brushed the dust from the hem of his clothes.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "An old member has to go easy on a newcomer. Taking it too seriously would spoil the fun."
-Your mouth is a lot tougher than your blade.
"My turn next."
Rossi rolled his shoulders, walked into the center of the arena, and crooked a finger at Pica, who was barely even breathing hard.
"We can settle that unfinished match from Odense today."
Pica straightened his neckcloth again and took his stance.
To establish yourself somewhere fists did the talking, the most direct approach was to show everyone just how