This sword energy surged forth like a raging tidal wave, sweeping forward with overwhelming force.
Wherever it passed, the air was torn apart with sharp whistling sounds, and even the solid ground seemed to turn as fragile as tofu, easily split in two by the sword energy, leaving behind a deep, terrifying chasm.
It was important to note that this was Diamante's ultimate technique, executed without relying on his Devil Fruit abilities—the strongest move he possessed as a top-tier swordsman.
Such a devastating strike was enough to strike fear into any opponent.
On the other side, Lancelot narrowed his eyes slightly upon witnessing this breathtaking scene, revealing a trace of solemnity
. He fully understood the power of Diamante's move, but that was all.
His right hand quickly moved to the renowned black blade, Shusui, hanging at his waist, and with a low shout, he called out its name.
"Ittoryu: Kaen (Return to Sea One Sword Slash)!"
In that instant, Lancelot moved with lightning speed, swiftly drawing the Shusui longsword from his waist.
In a flash, the black blade carved a dazzling, mesmerizing arc through the air, shining as brilliantly as a meteor streaking across the night sky.
Almost simultaneously, Lancelot swung the Shusui longsword, slashing fiercely toward Diamante's attack.
The force of this swing was like a thunderous avalanche, carrying overwhelming power and an unstoppable, absolute momentum.
In the blink of an eye, a terrifying slash erupted—tilted at a thirty-degree angle and towering ten meters high.
Its speed was too fast to react to, and its destructive power surpassed all imagination.
Faced with such a fierce assault, Diamante's seemingly unstoppable slash appeared fragile and brittle.
It was torn apart as easily as thin paper by Lancelot's strike, dissipating before the astonished gazes of the onlookers.
Yet, Lancelot's slash did not halt its advance, continuing forward with relentless determination.
Witnessing this, Diamante's expression shifted dramatically.
He knew full well that the power of this slash was no trivial matter—a direct confrontation would likely lead to disastrous consequences.
Thus, at the critical moment, Diamante swiftly devised a countermeasure.
He draped his steel-crafted cloak in front of him, pulling it taut in a desperate attempt to block Lancelot's fatal strike.
However, despite Diamante exerting his utmost effort, Lancelot's slash proved far too powerful.
Thud...
The next moment, accompanied by a dull, heavy impact—Diamante was sent flying like a ball struck by a cannonball.
His body traced a long parabolic arc through the air before crashing heavily to the ground a full hundred meters away from the battlefield.
Pfft...
A torrent of crimson blood erupted from Diamante's mouth like a volcanic burst.
Instantly, a mist of blood filled the air, carrying a pungent, metallic scent.
His right hand clutched desperately at his left arm, but it was already empty—yes, his left arm had been severed clean off at the root!
All of this resulted from Lancelot's single, earth-shattering sword strike.
Not only had it effortlessly shattered his proud slash, but it had also torn through his sturdy, steel Bullfighting Cloak with overwhelming force and severed his left arm.
Moreover, the clothing on his chest was similarly torn open.
A deep, bone-exposing gash continuously oozed fresh blood, a horrifying sight.
The vivid red bloodstains trickled down his garments, pooling into a small puddle on the ground, silently narrating the brutality of this fierce, one-sided battle.
If not for his attire—also crafted from steel like his cloak—forming a second, albeit weaker, line of defense that barely withstood the remainder of Lancelot's attack, he would have likely been cleaved in two by that terrifying sword strike, becoming nothing more than a cold, lifeless corpse.
At this moment, Diamante's face was as pale as paper, devoid of any trace of color, as if the flame of life was about to extinguish.
His facial expression was twisted and distorted by excruciating pain, becoming ferocious and terrifying, making it unbearable to look at.
"Great... Swordsman?" Diamante's gaze was vacant, his mind reeling.
In this world, only a Great Swordsman could unleash a slash of such peerless power.
And not just any ordinary Great Swordsman.
'The world's greatest swordsman, Hawkeye? Does this guy possess strength not inferior to Hawkeye's?'
"Soru!"
In the blink of an eye, Lancelot vanished without a trace like a ghost.
The next moment, when everyone regained their senses, they found him already standing steadily before the downed Diamante.
Lancelot's eyes were icy cold as he slowly raised his right foot... and then stomped down mercilessly onto Diamante's head.
"Bang!"
Under the immense force, a large amount of blood gushed from Diamante's mouth once again.
Even the ground trembled from the impact.
But Lancelot did not retract his foot. Instead, he gradually increased the pressure.
As Lancelot steadily intensified the force, Diamante's head began to sink, bit by bit, into the soil.
With each passing second, his head sank deeper into the ground until only one-third of his face remained visible above the surface.
At this moment, Diamante was filled with fear and rage, desperately struggling to break free from Lancelot's stomp.
However, no matter how hard he twisted his body or flailed his remaining arm, Lancelot's foot remained like an immovable mountain, firmly pressing down on him, making it impossible to escape the overwhelming force.
"Hahahaha...."
Then, as a person faces boundless despair and deep fear alone, without even a glimmer of hope for survival, they often hit rock bottom and become indifferent to life and death.
Diamante suddenly threw his head back and let out a deafening, maniacal roar of laughter.
The laughter echoed through the air, carrying a nearly mad sense of liberation.
Seeing this, Lancelot raised an eyebrow slightly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes as he sternly said.
"Do you really think I wouldn't dare to kill you?"
Upon hearing this, Diamante's laughter abruptly ceased, but a wild grin remained on his face as he fearlessly retorted.
"What does it matter whether you kill me or not? You've already broken the rules of the underworld. Next, you'll face the frenzied, unified retaliation of all the underworld kings! Hahahaha..."
After speaking, he burst into another round of unrestrained laughter.
Hearing this, Lancelot was momentarily taken aback, seemingly surprised by the mention of the so-called "underworld rules."
But he quickly regained his composure, a contemptuous smile curling at the corner of his mouth as he slowly said.
"Oh? The rules of the underworld? How utterly ridiculous!"
"In this world of survival of the fittest, rules have always been set by the strong... and followed by the weak."
"And here," Lancelot declared, pressing his foot down harder, "I am the rule."
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