As the contestants for Block D ascended the stage, the fallen princess, Rebecca, made her appearance. The moment she stepped into view, the crowd erupted, not in cheers, but in a torrential downpour of loathing and boos.
It had to be said that Doflamingo's decree separating humans from toys, combined with his schemes to manipulate the minds of Dressrosa's residents, had worked perfectly. To the citizens of Dressrosa, Doflamingo was a savior to be worshipped. Furthermore, Sugar's Hobby-Hobby Fruit ability was truly heaven-defying; without such a power, Doflamingo could never have maintained such absolute control over this nation.
However, in stark contrast to the vitriol aimed at Rebecca, the entrance of the mega-star Cavendish sparked a deafening roar of adoration.
As a cadre of the Chris Pirates and the official spokesperson for the various merchant guilds under their banner, Cavendish was a world-renowned celebrity with an explosive fan base.
Yet, the audience's mockery and verbal abuse toward Rebecca drew Cavendish's sharp ire. He turned to the stands, rebuking the spectators with a thunderous voice.
"The cries of a cowardly rabble are nothing but noise! Worthless!"
"Though I have my reasons for entering this tournament, I utterly detest spectacles like this. A warrior's life is not a toy for your amusement!"
His words were clear: a warrior who stands upon the ring with a resolve to face death, even if she were 'only' a woman, was not someone to be insulted by a pack of rats in the stands.
Remarkably, these words didn't turn the crowd against him. Instead, his bold charisma only fueled their obsession. Men and women alike screamed his name with even greater fervor, and the fighters on the stage looked toward him with newfound respect. Even Max, Gergiel, and Vito, watching from the preparation room, couldn't help but take notice.
Ding—!
The crisp ring of the bell signaled the start of the Block D battle royale!
The moment the fight began, high-level combatants started clearing out the "chaff" around them. Men like Sleiman and Orlumbus displayed overwhelming power, crushing any contestant foolish enough to strike at them.
As for Rebecca, the princess of the fallen kingdom, she was immediately targeted by a swarm of unscrupulous opportunists. Fortunately, the princess, clad in her Roman-style helmet, green cape, and golden greaves, possessed legitimate skill. Her "Backwater Sword Dance" left her attackers helpless; one by one, they were parried off the stage and sent splashing into the water below.
Of course, the undisputed strongest presence on the stage remained Cavendish. With his legendary blade, Durandal, in one hand and a rose in the other, he moved with lethal elegance. Every time he drew his sword, a man fell.
Under his blade, almost no one could last a single exchange. Even when several fighters attempted a coordinated ambush, a single sweep of his sword cleaved through their steel shields and weapons as if they were paper, leaving them sprawled on the ground.
Suddenly, a shimmering flash of a polearm-axe lunged toward him. Cavendish furrowed his brows and leaped back to evade.
Boom—!
The golden polearm-axe slammed into the ground, shattering the stone and kicking up a cloud of dust.
"What is your name?" Cavendish asked, eyeing the newcomer with a hint of curiosity.
The man was handsome, with dark red hair, dressed in white aristocratic attire and long boots. He wielded a massive, three-pronged golden polearm-axe.
"Galdoy, the Aesthetic Bounty Hunter!" Galdoy declared, pulling his weapon from the cratered floor, his expression grim as he faced Cavendish.
"What's this? You look like you're afraid of me," Cavendish noted, raising an eyebrow at the man's visible tension.
"I know the Chris Pirates are monstrously strong, but I'm not afraid of you!" Galdoy growled. "The fact that you could join them proves your worth. After surviving that great war in the Bivins Kingdom, I've learned never to underestimate anyone from your crew again!"
Cavendish's expression shifted to realization. "I see. You were at the fall of Bivins." He smirked playfully. "Which means you were on the opposing side. It must have been during the time the Captain and Enel raided Griffinfort. I recall the Bivins Noble Council hired a massive number of mercenaries and bounty hunters like yourself."
The mention of Griffinfort made Galdoy's face turn pale. He looked as though he were reliving a nightmare.
In that battle, he had boasted about taking the head of "God" Enel to forge a diamond weapon. He and several famous S-class mercenaries had surrounded Enel, only for that monster to wipe them out in a few casual strokes. Galdoy himself had been nearly killed by a single bolt of lightning, surviving only through pure luck. That defeat had shattered his confidence, and his injuries had taken half a year to heal.
"Hahaha!" Cavendish laughed at the man's pallor. "To survive a brush with the Captain or Enel... your luck is truly extraordinary!"
Suddenly, his tone turned icy. "But you're blocking my path now. Do you think I'm the 'soft' target? Do you think you can settle your old grudge through me?"
"I can't compare to the monsters at the top of the Chris Pirates, but I refuse to believe I'm inferior to a mere cadre!" Galdoy gritted his teeth, his voice thick with resentment. "This time, I'll use you to prove my strength!"
He had entered this tournament for two reasons: the Flame-Flame Fruit, and to challenge either Cavendish or Vito to reclaim his dignity.
With a roar, he charged Cavendish, swinging the golden polearm-axe.
"Very well. Let's see if your luck stays with you today!" Cavendish's lips curled into a smile as he met the charge.
Galdoy unleashed a flurry of thrusts and swings. The golden weapon, inlaid with reflective materials, gleamed blindingly under the sun, threatening to disorient anyone who looked at it.
Unfortunately for him, Cavendish was a veteran warrior equipped with Observation Haki. Every strike Galdoy threw was either effortlessly parried or dodged with room to spare.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sounds of sword meeting axe rang out in a rhythmic, metallic chorus.
After several exchanges, Galdoy was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his forehead. He had exerted every ounce of his strength yet hadn't managed to graze his opponent.
"Mmm, what a wonderful fragrance," Cavendish remarked, sounding entirely bored. He wasn't just defending; he was suppressing Galdoy with one hand while using the other to delicately sniff his rose.
"Damn you! Damn you! Take this!" Galdoy, consumed by rage and fear, swung his axe in a desperate, frenzied arc.
"So this is the extent of your strength? What a waste of anticipation," Cavendish said, his gaze suddenly sharpening. "It's time to end this."
In a blur of motion, a brilliant flash of sword light erupted.
Slash—!
In an instant, the golden polearm snapped, and blood sprayed into the air.
"This... this is im… possible..." Galdoy looked down at his chest in shock. A long, jagged wound ran from his left shoulder to his right hip, gushing blood.
Thump.
Galdoy collapsed, losing consciousness. Judging by the severity of the wound, he might survive with immediate medical attention, but left alone, he would surely bleed out.
"He's... he's terrifyingly strong!"
"A cadre of the Chris Pirates... they really live up to the rumors!"
"Even Galdoy couldn't last more than a few moves. Too powerful!"
The surrounding contestants were paralyzed with fear, staring at the man who looked like a prince stepped out of a fairy tale.
"White Horse Cavendish... he really is the real deal."
"Shishilian, let's go together. We need to test this man's limits."
"Understood, Pedro. Let's see if the two of us can take him down!"
From the crowd, two figures in black robes, wearing lion and leopard masks, exchanged a few hushed words. Without another sound, they drew their longswords and lunged toward Cavendish.