He barely held himself up with his twin blades, fine cuts covering his body as blood rapidly soaked through his clothes.
He raised his head, shock and unwillingness mingling in his eyes.
"When..."
"From the moment I stood here."
The young man answered calmly, his hands back in his trouser pockets.
Around him, several exceedingly fine threads revealed faint outlines where blood stained them. They hovered silently in the air, forming a three-dimensional cage waiting for prey to collide with it.
Yes, these transparent traps had already been quietly laid when he first provoked everyone with his words.
The brightly colored threads dancing around earlier had merely been a diversion to draw attention.
"...I surrender."
Moritz spoke hoarsely.
Had his combat instincts not protected his vital points at the last instant, his own speed would probably have carried him into those invisible threads and sliced him apart.
Victory and defeat often hinged on a tiny oversight.
"Did you see that?"
In the stands, Rossi spoke, his gaze sweeping over his companions. "That man's speed certainly warranted caution, but his ability to protect himself was far too weak.
"Many defeats happen not because the strong aren't strong enough, but because they have a fatal gap in their defenses."
Victorious, Doflamingo crossed the sand and returned toward them at an unhurried pace.
As waves of cheers washed over him, the blond boy merely tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Shifting lights reflected in his sunglasses, hiding his eyes behind crimson reflections.
"Just some nobody."
His murmur vanished beneath the clamor, yet made the people at several nearby tables stiffen.
They stared at the arena-the man called "Wind Blade"
was being helped away, a straight wound running from his left shoulder down beneath his ribs.
He had lost too quickly, so quickly