—Broadcast—
In fact, when examining the confrontation's final resolution, there wasn't much surprising about subsequent developments. With the Marine intervening decisively in what should have been purely "family affairs" of the Celestial Dragons, even Saint Jaygarcia Saturn—unwilling as he was in his ancient heart—faced irresistible reality.
Wendy finally joined the New Marine.
The only minor victory Saint Saturn managed extracting from these humiliating negotiations: Wendy would resume her identity as a Celestial Dragon officially. She'd join the New Marine system explicitly as a member of the God Clan rather than as some random outsider.
As for whether she could actually perform any role that benefited the Celestial Dragons politically or militarily? The Elder actually no longer harbored any genuine hope about that outcome.
He simply wanted to create minor complications that would annoy the "acting" Fleet Admiral of the Marine. Petty revenge through bureaucratic inconvenience.
Wendy and her brother transported to the New Marine Headquarters by two Admirals. They departed Mary Geoise's holy land, leaving behind ruins and devastation.
The troublemakers simply walked away without facing any meaningful punishment. It was as if the entire farce had never occurred—as if hundreds hadn't died, as if ancient buildings hadn't been demolished, as if the Celestial Dragons' invincibility hadn't been publicly shattered.
After confirming the matter was concluded, Saint Figarland Garling once again materialized beside the Five Elders. As a Celestial Dragon also possessing extremely noble status within the hierarchy—someone whose bloodline traced back to the original twenty founding families—this supreme swordsman could genuinely empathize with their frustration.
The Marine was truly becoming less and less respectful toward the Gods with each passing year.
"Are we simply going to let them depart unpunished?" Saint Figarland Garling's voice carried barely suppressed outrage. "The cost of repairing the holy land represents a truly enormous expense. Billions at minimum."
Although Mary Geoise's holy land hadn't suffered the complete catastrophic disaster that Wendy's ultimate technique could have unleashed, the giant tornado created by the Sky Dragon had still caused irreversible damage to numerous ancient buildings.
Structures that had stood for centuries—architectural marvels commissioned by the very first Celestial Dragons—had been reduced to rubble or left with smooth cross-sections where roofs had been sliced cleanly away.
As for casualty counts? It was genuinely impossible to calculate accurately. Government agents, politicians from member nations, Celestial Dragon servants, even some minor nobles—all mixed together in death.
When had the Celestial Dragons ever felt so profoundly aggrieved and powerless?!
Many loyal subordinates had been beaten to death by a single eleven-year-old girl. Some financial backers from crucial member nations had also perished. Irreplaceable buildings in their ancestral homeland had been demolished.
And in the end, Saint Saturn had chosen to endure all of it. To swallow the humiliation. This was the only realistic conclusion given their actual powerlessness before the Marine's coordinated intervention.
"Money isn't the genuine problem here," Saint Jaygarcia Saturn stated grimly, stroking his white beard. "We can simply collect additional Heavenly Tribute from member nations. Increase quotas by twenty percent. They'll complain but ultimately comply."
He paused, his ancient eyes hardening with determination.
"The New Marine has metastasized into a malignant tumor parasitically feeding upon us. It's time for major surgical intervention before the cancer spreads further."
Of course Saint Saturn desperately didn't want admitting—even internally—that proposing Artoria Pendragon as the Marine's Acting Fleet Admiral had been an irreparable strategic mistake.
This represented a metaphorical slap across the Five Elders' collective face from multiple humiliating angles.
After the catastrophic Battle of Marineford several years ago, the Marine had nearly lost all its elite personnel. The organizational devastation had been almost terminal:
Fleet Admiral Sengoku had become a broken man—psychologically destroyed by watching his adopted son die and his institution crumble. He was functionally no different from dead, maintaining only ceremonial presence.
Marine Hero Garp had been imprisoned in the Marine's own detention facility after allowing his grandson to escape. The legend who'd cornered the Pirate King was now a captive of the organization he'd served for decades.
Admiral Kuzan had lost body parts during combat—his left leg severed completely, mobility permanently compromised despite prosthetic replacement.
Admiral Sakazuki had been missing entirely following the battle's conclusion. His life or death remained unknown for extended periods. Some speculated he'd died from injuries. Others believed he'd deserted in disgust.
As for Admiral Borsalino? It was better not mentioning that ambiguous situation. The man had survived intact but seemed even less motivated than before—if such a thing was possible.
In that context of everything lying in ruins—institutional collapse, leadership decapitated, morale shattered—the Five Elders had wanted rapidly reorganizing the Marine's strength.
They needed restoring control over key maritime chokepoints. They required making it easier for Celestial Dragons to receive Heavenly Tribute gold from across the world without pirate interference.
When the Old Marine existed in semi-disabled condition, the seas had almost become paradise for pirates. Lawlessness reigned. Trade routes became hunting grounds.
The Revolutionary Army had exploited the weakening of external military pressure to wantonly conduct subversive operations in numerous kingdoms. Eventually they'd even managed blocking critical waterways, reducing the number of ships traveling to and from Mary Geoise's holy land.
When had the Celestial Dragons ever been forced waiting for supply deliveries like common merchants?!
The humiliation had been unbearable. Intolerable for beings who considered themselves divine.
In order to revive this giant Marine organization from near-death, the Celestial Dragons had spent truly astronomical sums. They'd invested dozens of times the previous annual Marine funding—trillions flowing into recruitment, equipment, fortifications.
Money poured like water into a bottomless pit of organizational reconstruction.
In the end, exactly as the Five Elders had predicted, money genuinely worked miracles. In less than one and a half years, the combat effectiveness of the reborn New Marine's elite middle and lower ranks had been restored to original operational capacity.
Recruitment surged. Training intensified. Equipment modernized.
But this success contained the seeds of their current nightmare.
The position of Fleet Admiral represented a uniquely vital appointment. The Five Elders needed absolutely ensuring that whoever occupied this seat must prioritize the overall interests of Celestial Dragons. Must continue cooperating with the World Government. Must serve the Gods as an obedient dog rather than an independent power.
However, serious problems emerged during personnel selection:
Former Admiral Zephyr was simply too elderly to serve as active Fleet Admiral again.
Admiral Kuzan possessed problematic views on justice that couldn't be fully trusted. His "Lazy Justice" philosophy suggested he wouldn't devote his entire heart to Celestial Dragon interests. Too much independent thinking. Too much personal morality.
Admiral Borsalino—the master of strategic laziness—had absolutely no interest in commanding the Marine as its supreme leader. He was precisely the kind of person who preferred minding his own business and collecting steady paychecks.
The Five Elders were genuinely terrified that if they appointed him as Fleet Admiral, the New Marine they'd rebuilt through such enormous financial investment would essentially disband within days through sheer administrative neglect.
The Five Elders had strongly preferred Sakazuki taking over as Fleet Admiral. This killing maniac who obsessed exclusively about eliminating pirates would never interfere in Celestial Dragon affairs after assuming office.
At most he'd display bad temper occasionally. He might execute a few subordinates for insufficient zeal. But many crucial operations could still proceed on the same track as before.
Sakazuki represented the ideal combination: competent, motivated, controllable.
But this eldest candidate had been missing at that critical time. His whereabouts unknown. His survival uncertain.
There existed no alternative candidate the five ancient rulers genuinely liked. Other Marine officers lacked sufficient qualifications, experience, or ideological reliability.
The knight girl Artoria Pendragon had turned the tide during the Battle of Marineford through actions nobody fully understood even years later. Her exact contributions remained classified, but results spoke clearly.
She'd prevented total Marine collapse. She'd stabilized morale. She'd demonstrated leadership under impossible pressure.
Naturally, she became one of the candidates for Fleet Admiral consideration.
The Five Elders had deliberated throughout multiple sleepless nights, arguing about optimal choices. Finally they'd reached a compromise conclusion:
Let Artoria Pendragon become the Acting Fleet Admiral temporarily. During the extended period while Sakazuki remained missing, she would handle most New Marine affairs. She'd serve as a communication bridge between the Marine and Celestial Dragons.
The "Acting" designation was crucial—it suggested temporariness, lack of full authority, subordination to eventual permanent appointment.
At first, Saint Saturn had worried that Artoria Pendragon wouldn't perform adequately as Acting Fleet Admiral. He'd feared this blonde girl—suddenly elevated to such high position—wouldn't possess sufficient capability.
Maybe she'd make catastrophic mistakes. Maybe she'd prove incompetent under administrative pressure. When that happened, the Five Elders themselves would need assuming direct command as emergency measures.
But after the knight girl actually assumed the Acting Fleet Admiral position, she hadn't displayed any signs whatsoever of incompetence or overwhelm.
Instead, she'd performed too well. Far exceeded all expectations.
Five years later, her excellence had transformed from reassuring competence into existential threat.
Artoria Pendragon's political acumen and leadership charisma had proven far beyond anyone's predictions. Many individuals who absolutely should not have been recruitable—warriors who'd rejected all previous Marine overtures, idealists who'd maintained independence, geniuses who'd worked solo—had gathered around the Acting Fleet Admiral.
When their collective strength was compared against the Celestial Dragons' strongest combat forces, the God Clan's military was easily crushed in theoretical matchups.
Twelve Marine Admirals. The Royal Guard's one hundred griffin riders. Rome's fortress-city rivaling Mary Geoise itself.
The current catastrophic situation represented the direct result of the Five Elders' unanimous voting decision years ago. This mistake must be borne collectively by all Celestial Dragons suffering its consequences.
"Malignant tumor? What an exceptionally apt metaphor," Saint Figarland Garling observed darkly. "But tumors this advanced require amputation rather than treatment. Do we possess the courage to cut off our own legs and learn walking differently?"
In the past, the God Clan had walked on two institutional pillars:
The First Pillar: The Marine—the most powerful violent enforcement agency, responsible for maintaining maritime order and suppressing rebellion.
The Second Pillar: The World Government's bureaucratic apparatus—operating for nearly eight centuries, responsible for collecting and managing Heavenly Tribute, administering member nations, maintaining political control.
They'd been walking on these two legs successfully for almost eight hundred years. The system had functioned adequately if not perfectly.
But now? Saint Figarland Garling believed the time had arrived for decisive action. The New Marine's style of "following orders but not announcements"—obeying the letter while violating the spirit, maintaining nominal cooperation while pursuing independent agendas—had touched the absolute bottom line of all Celestial Dragons.
If they continued allowing the Marine to parasitically absorb nutrients from Celestial Dragon resources—funding, legitimacy, personnel, authority—performing separation surgery later would cost exponentially more.
Eventually even the Five Elders wouldn't be able to afford the political and military price of extraction.
In summary, the time had come for cutting off the Marine leg as rapidly as possible. Affairs could not be delayed any longer without risking complete loss of control.
Saint Saturn, together with the other Four Elders, had long been preparing to introduce a more reliable ally. Someone who could balance and eventually completely replace the New Marine in their institutional structure.
This ally certainly wasn't pirates. The Five Elders would never willingly invite wolves into their house despite desperate circumstances. Moreover, pirates were demonstrably far less reliable than even the rebellious Marine.
Things weren't quite that catastrophically bad yet.
Compared to the Marine—ungrateful wolves who'd been fed, trained, empowered, and now turned on their masters—pirates were pure scoundrels operating without even pretense of loyalty.
The Seven Warlords of the Sea experimental ruling structure had exposed more and more critical shortcomings with each passing year. Individual Warlords pursuing personal agendas. Genetic material stolen for Seraph programs. Open rebellion during crises.
The Five Elders sincerely believed that pirates were absolutely untrustworthy as institutional partners. They'd proven this repeatedly through centuries of consistent betrayal.
At least the Marine still maintained some organizational discipline. At least they still pretended cooperation.
Finding a third pillar—a new leg to stand on—had become existential necessity.
But what organization possessed sufficient power, sufficient reliability, sufficient motivation to replace the Marine?
The Five Elders were still searching for that answer.
And running out of time.