Hell In A Cell

Before Dante could even blink, Mihawk had dashed in and attempted to carve him in two with Yoru, followed closely by Crocodile who had cocooned him in razor sharp sand rotating at high velocity.

Dante mindlessly Tricked away from both attacks, teleporting mere inches away from Mihawk, who only barely managed to recover his guard and block a Haki coated fist from Dante, leaving the man pushing back with all his might against Dante's fist. The blade of Yoru groaned under the sheer force behind Dante's jab, and the wind that followed it whipped against Mihawk's skin.

Sensing Crocodile once more trying to attack him, Dante dropped the force behind his fist, sending Mihawk forward momentarily allowing Dante to give Hawk-Eyes a swift knee to the gut after sidestepping Yoru, throwing the Shichibukai tens of feet away. From there Dante quickly summoned Balrog, activating the Ignition and turning the sand of Crocodile around him into glass, with the former Shichibukai left in agony as his body burned.

In the brief moment that his attackers had been pushed away, Dante took stock of the situation around him, noticing that most of the fighting had sped up considerably, most likely a boost in morale due to his arrival. He cupped his hands around his mouth and began shouting.

"Yamato!"

Heeding his call, Yamato quickly fell in line by his side after having secured the Deadweight, resting her Kanabo against her shoulder.

Dante quickly pointed a finger at the gathering of Marine soldiers ahead of him, men who had been gawking at his clash with Mihawk and Crocodile and had been essentially waiting for a turn to get involved, the simple act of pointing causing many of them to flinch.

"These guys are in my way."

Confused by the sudden appraisal of the situation, the Marines were quickly left terrified by Dante's next words.

"Fix that."

Within an instant Yamato had entrenched herself in the mass of Marines, swinging wildly as blood and viscera spilled around her, a terrifying display of loyalty.

With the grunts taken care of, Dante continued his casual walk towards Marine High Command, unimpeded by Crocodile who had now shifted his attention to Whitebeard. Mihawk on the other hand was ready to start round two, having gotten up moments ago and cleared his mind briefly.

Doflamingo had long since abandoned the side of the arena that Dante was situated on, absolute terror flushing through his system upon his arrival, only amplified by the name Yamato being uttered by the half-devil. Were he not contractually obligated to be here, Doflamingo would have left hours ago.

As Dante walked forward towards Ace's execution platform, he noticed Mihawk approaching once more, his eyes far sharper than they were before despite his namesake. His clutch on the legendary Yoru was far tighter now, his knuckles were visibly straining against the handle.

"I must admit, Red Devil. You surprise me. I thought you nothing more than a showboating fool, but it seems I had... miscalculated."

Mihawk's voice was cold as steel, focused and full of mirth. He hadn't realised until now, but his status as the World's Strongest Swordsman was on the line, alongside his life.

Seriously? Showboating fool? Now he's just being nasty.

Dante thought to himself, slightly confused at how Mihawk had gone so long thinking he was a fraud. Surely the numerous charges against him spoke for themselves?

"From where I'm standing, it seems like you've made another miscalculation Mihawk. If you were smart, you'd turn around and go back home to your nest."

"On my honour as the World's Strongest Swordsman-"

Oh jesus, again with that fucking title...

Dante had already grown sick of hearing that epithet.

Mihawk slowly turned the blade of Yoru in his palm, settling into a stance he seemed far more comfortable in, one hand free at his hip and his body turned to the side, sword facing Dante.

"-I cannot allow myself to back down from this fight. My pride depends on it."

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There was a wide berth around both Dante and Mihawk amidst the chaos, the soldiers from both parties not being stupid enough to try and entangle themselves in the conflict. The two simply stood there, eyes trained on one another.

Dante shrugged his shoulder and decided to bite, figuring that he had an unlimited amount of time to save Ace anyways with Quicksilver. He could waste a few minutes on Mihawk.

The half-devil summoned his Devil Sword into his hand, cinders flying through the air around the blade as he did so. In his off-hand, Dante held his trusty Coyote-A shotgun, going for the dual wield approach once more.

"Some people just can't help themselves... Alright, let's dance!"

After Dante finished talking, both men swung their swords forward with extreme force causing two long blades of wind to shoot forward across the battlefield, one distinctly tinged with red energy. Dante's wind blade demolished Mihawk's and continued travelling forward, rocketing toward Hawk-Eyes, causing the Shichibukai to roll away just in time to avoid being bisected within the first ten seconds.

The blade continued moving, eviscerating anyone that it came into contact with as it did so until finally the windblade crashed into the walls of Marineford.

Mihawk looked composed on the outside, though internally he felt incredibly distressed. With a single swing of his sword, Dante had asserted the power difference between the two of them. Was it a matter of skill? Or did Dante hold a special fruit that innately made him stronger? Was there even a fruit?

"Wake up!"

Mihawk's thoughts were interrupted by blinding pain. His observation Haki alerted him a split second too late, Dante had already Tricked above him and unloaded two shells from the Coyote onto his back, slamming Mihawk into the ground so hard from the force that he bounced back up. Both his front and back felt aflame, pain igniting every nerve in his body. Dante wasn't finished.

Did he really think I was gonna have an honourable duel with him? Fella's out of his mind.

When Mihawk bounced up, Dante Tricked back down to the ground, sword raised as he dragged the blade up into the air, bringing both himself and Mihawk further into the air. From there, Dante continued to swing his Devil Sword again and again, tearing into the limp body of Mihawk.

Keeping the tempo, Dante summoned the King Cerberus and spun violently in the air, the nunchaku whipping against Hawk-Eyes several tens of times. Finally, Dante assembled the King Cerberus into a Bo Staff and slammed the tip of it down onto Mihawk's chest, the force alongside the scorching flames throwing the Shichibukai onto the ground with a deafening crack.

Dante dropped deftly onto the ground, landing on both feet a few meters away from Mihawk, coat billowing behind him as he did so. He stood the King Cerberus up and rested his elbow atop it, scratching his stubble as he waited.

"World's Strongest Swordsman my ass. Barely even fought back."

Mihawk was bloodied and broken. Dante was half prepared to start walking away, though his Observation Haki caught something. Mihawk was still alive, clinging to life.

As Dante was attacking him, Mihawk had protected himself somewhat by coating his body in Haki. It had kept him alive, though now he was in agony, rasping out breaths on the floor.

Slowly, Mihawk rose from the ground, using Yoru as a support for his weight, his legs shaking from side to side. His eyes locked with Dante's, and to the half-devil's surprise there was no fear in them.

Alongside the razor sharp focus that Mihawk was notorious for, there was now burning hatred. A deep, boiling fury that consumed him. It was a look that Dante had seen in many people's eyes before, one he was intimately familiar with.

Dante was slowly getting excited. Mihawk seemed like a man possessed, his rasping breaths were slowing down with time, until finally he pointed Yoru forward at Dante once more, steel in his eyes and his hands.

"You fight cheap, Red Devil. Good. It'll only make it more satisfying when I win."

"Hoh? Big talk for the guy who's got one foot in the grave."

Dante paused and swung the Cerberus around in his palm, a smile on his face.

"I always thought you were compensating with that sword, but I guess I was wrong. Takes some big balls to talk shit to the guy who took you down in 20 seconds."

He looked back at Mihawk, only to pause again, this time in shock.

Did... did he pass out while standing up? That son of a bitch!

Indeed, Mihawk had fallen unconscious, having only barely managed to get up off the ground in the first place. His ribs were shattered, his body littered in deep cuts. It was a miracle the man was even standing. Had he not used his Haki to take the brunt of Coyote's shells, he'd have been crippled by the buckshot.

Dante chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, turning around and moving back towards the execution platform. As he did so, he mumbled quietly to himself.

"Impressive. Very impressive."

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"Sengoku, we need to deal with him now! He's derailing this whole operation!"

Garp's voice came out far harder than he intended, but the situation was turning dire. Dante was mowing his way through any defenses they set up, the longer they let him walk, the further he'd dismantle their forces. Not to mention, he'd brought backup with him, this Yamato woman. She was another slowly brewing headache, now walking by his side after obliterating the 13th Sea Battalion.

"We can't risk it, Garp! If we send you out to deal with Dante, we may lose on of our only ways to deal with Whitebeard! We can't afford to lose you or Sengoku now."

Tsuru made a good point, but there was something to be said about better devils. He'd rather deal with Dante than Whitebeard, at least Newgate had a code of ethics. Then again, if they kill Whitebeard, even if everything falls apart they'll have destroyed pirate morale with his death. He is the last remaining pillar of the Old Age.

Sengoku rubbed his hands on his head once more before making an executive call, choosing neither of his co-commanders suggestions.

"Admirals. It's time for you to earn your keep. Destroy any pirate you see, no exceptions. All troops, focus fire on the Red Devil. Keep him occupied."

Sengoku then reached into his vest, pulling out a Mushi. It rung for only a single moment before it was answered. The cold, chilling voice of Vegapunk came out.

"Fleet Admiral. A pleasure. We can already see the situation at hand. Allow us to... lend our assistance. This battle will provide invaluable field data."

Sengoku breathed a sigh of relief. While the World Government may be reluctant to involve themselves against Dante, Vegapunk held no such reservations. Every clash brought new data, after all. New data meant new knowledge, new future possibilities to uncover. Ways to harness Dante's strength as their own.

"I want anything you can give me. I don't care if it's a glorified janitor or a death machine, any support you can send I expect it here."

"While it is... uncouth of you to make such demands of us, given the circumstances we shall allow it to go unanswered. Only once."

Sengoku hung up the Mushi. He didn't care for Vegapunk and their self righteous talk, nor their rampant ego. His headache was slowly growing, though hopefully now it would lessen with time.

The last of the Shichibukai and the Marine forces had a handle on the Whitebeard Pirates for now. Mihawk... well he was alive, that was all that mattered.

Looking down at the arena from his position on the High Tower, Sengoku glared balefully at Dante. His voice, his visage, it all added further fuel to the raw hatred he felt. He hadn't felt such vitriol towards a pirate since Rocks reigned unchallenged.

Dante was too dangerous to be imprisoned. Execution was the only option. Sengoku would happily ensure the execution succeeded with his own two hands if need be.

As if sensing the deep fury Sengoku held towards him, Dante in that moment looked up. His eyes locked with Sengoku, and the half-devil started waving, a carefree grin on his face as he continued his leisurely walk.

"I'll make sure you burn, even if its the last thing I do, you vile Pirate scum."