The battlefield still burned in fragments.
The clouds of dust had no time to settle before new clashes raised more rubble and bones. At the center of the island, two presences collided like invisible hammers, cracking the ground beneath their feet.
Jozu was still there.
Motionless in form, but never in tension.
Diamond covered his entire body — crystalline, gleaming, almost merciless. The mineral structure shimmered under the light escaping from his opponent's attacks. But it wasn't the armor that kept the commander standing. It was what it represented.
Each impact was a reminder.
Each strike from the woman before him came with intent.
THUD!
The first stomp from Hancock hit him on the side of the face, and the ground beneath his foot collapsed in a semicircle. Her leg came down like a guillotine, and even though it was blocked by the diamond shield, the vibration reached his spine.
Jozu clenched his teeth.
Blamenco...
SHHAAAM!
The second strike came with a spin. Hancock's leap bought her space and time to gain height, and the next instant she came down with her heel straight into his clavicle. His skin didn't yield. The crystal didn't crack. But the earth shook in waves.
Rakuyo...
ZWAAM!
Another sequence. Hancock spun her hips with the precision of a trained warrior, her body flowing like a living blade. Her feet slid, struck, stomped with refined aggression. The diamond resisted. But inside, the impact built up.
Jozu stepped back a single inch.
It was enough to bleed within.
Namur... Vista...
Each name was a loss.
Each movement of the enemy, a toll.
BOOOM!
The ground gave in under the weight of the strike. A rock fragment rose up nearby and crashed down whole right after. The island groaned at each exchange, but only one of them was starting to break.
Hancock landed on Jozu's shoulder with her heel. The sole of her sandal struck the exact point between muscle and collarbone. The snap didn't come from outside — it came from the center.
Marco...
That was the last name.
The last thought before pain pierced through the defenses.
The diamond shone one last time, and the Haki vanished like ink washed away. The dark color protecting the crystal visually ran down his body. The hardened structure remained — but the spiritual reinforcement did not.
And it was in that instant that Hancock stopped.
She spun in the air, light in a way that betrayed the moment. Her feet landed gracefully beside the commander's battered body.
Her eyes gleamed. Her expression shifted. Her breath slowed.
"Stay still... while I wait for my beloved."
The words were spoken with a soft, almost dreamy tone.
Jozu, fallen and immobile, did not answer. He couldn't.
The empress crossed her arms with automatic charm, her eyes drifting from the wounded enemy to the clear sky above.
A smile shaped itself on her face. Her gaze lost focus. A faint sigh escaped.
The expression of the most feared woman on that battlefield turned into a silent comedy scene.
The blood shining on her fingers did not match the shine in her eyes.
"Riser..."
She whispered it as if the name were a forbidden melody. The combat stance disappeared. Her leg tapped lightly against the ground, as if nervously swinging her ankle. Her shoulders moved like those of a lovestruck girl.
The island's silence seemed embarrassed.
The other vampires watched her from afar.
Zala, Mikita, Alvida, Kaya, Kalifa, Nojiko.
None spoke a word.
The fight was over for all of them. The opponents were down, motionless or gone. The field was theirs. Yet none approached. Not out of fear. Out of habit.
Hancock's daydreams were sacred moments.
Amid the cracked scenery, Jozu turned his head with effort.
His face moved slowly, searching for the sea.
His gaze carried the last hope. The last mute prayer. The instinct of a warrior who still believed in redemption. Deep in his heart, he awaited a miracle.
He hoped to see the sky torn by blue wings.
But what rose from the ocean was not the Phoenix.
The waters split with contained violence. An explosion of steam painted a halo of light. And from the depths rose a figure no faith could accept.
Riser Phenex emerged from the sea with his wings spread, blazing like living torches.
His body still wrapped in demonic magic. Crimson runes pulsing. His skin dry. His gaze serene.
He did not fly — he ascended.
Jozu saw.
And the disappointment was immediate.
His face lost the weight of effort.
His gaze expressed no fury. No surprise.
Only mute acceptance of the worst possible outcome.
The miracle never came.
The enemy did.
And the world tilted forever.
Riser landed beside Hancock with the grace of a ritual.
The heat of his wings still rippled the air, but the ground beneath his feet seemed untouched. His very presence distorted the landscape.
Hancock didn't turn her head.
She only smiled, deeper, as if everything finally made sense.
Jozu closed his eyes.
And his consciousness faded.
The diamond cracked in silence.
First in his left arm, then at the collarbone. The crystalline surface lost its shine. The fractures spread like dry veins. The commander's mythical armor, once a symbol of strength and absolute defense, began to dissolve with the slowness of an inevitable end.
Fragments fell.
Shards of the mineral reflected the sky in pieces. The sound was dry. Splinters touched the ground like a fine rain. Jozu's skin beneath the diamond was pale and marked. His resilience had vanished with his faith.
Riser watched the process like one beholding a finished painting.
"You were excellent."
The words came softly. No sarcasm. No pomp.
"Each one of you."
His gaze swept the field. The vampires stood still, watching. None replied. But all heard.
"This was a flawless display."
Hancock smiled without disguise.
The shine in her eyes matched the sandal she slowly raised. Her foot swung lightly in the air. And in the next instant, she kicked Jozu in the face with the calm of someone blowing out a candle.
The body spun once.
And fell sideways, with the muffled sound of dead flesh and stone.
Riser stepped closer.
There was no hesitation.
His hand rose over the corpse's chest.
"Extract."
The reply came not from earth nor sky.
It came from the system.
[Target confirmed: Jozu, former 3rd Division Commander of Whitebeard's Fleet.]
[Status: Dead.]
[Fruit Type: Kira Kira no Mi – Diamond Model (Special Paramecia).]
[Initiate Extraction procedure? Cost: 0 luck points.]
"Confirm."
The glow appeared at once.
Small, translucent, like a reflection that didn't belong to natural light.
The condensed energy within the fallen's body was drawn in a straight line to Riser's palm. It had no defined color. It was only power, in raw state.
[Extraction completed successfully.]
[Kira Kira no Mi added to Inventory.]
The glow in Riser's palm dissipated like enchanted dust. No physical trace remained. Only the echo of absorbed power.
He stepped back.
His gaze crossed the bodies around.
Jozu, lying in absolute silence. Vista, motionless since the earlier collapse. And around them, human fragments without identity — pieces that once belonged to the most feared fleet in the world.
There was no more use for it.
Riser extended his left hand.
Magic answered naturally. The flame didn't appear. It emerged.
Red.
Alive.
Primordial.
Particles floated first. Then clung to the air. The heat spread without warning, as if the island's oxygen had been replaced by oil.
The gesture was light.
The effect, absolute.
The fire descended in silence.
It did not burn like ordinary flames. It did not crackle. It left no embers. It touched, consumed, and erased — as if it unraveled the very existence of whatever it touched. The bodies vanished one by one, soundless, scentless, without return.
Vista disappeared first.
Jozu soon after.
Then the rest.
The battlefield turned into an altar of empty stone.
The silence that followed was not natural. It was heavy, filled with the absence of life, with the irreversible defeat of an entire era. The clouds, once heavy, vanished. The sky cleared on its own, as if it no longer wished to witness.
Hancock took a deep breath.
Her hands went to her hips. Her smile widened.
"What matters is that the men are gone."
The words were released lightly, like a comment on the weather. But in her tone, there was the sweetness of one savoring her own victory. Her eyes swept the island, and the corner of her lips trembled in pure satisfaction.
Alvida stepped back.
Her club resting on her shoulder, her posture relaxed.
"I'm done with this. I'm heading back to the ship."
The boredom was genuine. There was nothing left to destroy. The thrill of battle had run dry. And without a worthy opponent, the island had lost its flavor.
The other vampires stayed where they were.
Zala cleaned her blade with the cloth tied to her leg.
Mikita studied the ground as if analyzing the density of her own shadow.
Kaya was already storing her arrows, one by one, unhurried.
Kalifa and Nojiko only exchanged glances. No words.
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