"Hmph! Salutes are for Admirals and Fleet Admirals. Since when do lowly Vice Admirals like you get them?"
Before Tsuru could respond, Zephyr interrupted with a sharp remark.
Even if Borsalino's grand gesture was admirable, it had nothing to do with him anymore—
He wasn't about to return from retirement just to chase after a symbolic salute.
And if he didn't get that treatment, there was no way he'd let that crazy old mutt Garp enjoy it either.
"What did you just say, old bastard?! Wanna fight?!"
Vice Admiral Garp was nearly livid. If it weren't for the tens of thousands of marines watching below, he'd have gone up there and duked it out with that old bastard right then and there.
What did he mean by "just a mere headquarters vice admiral"? If not for his refusal to be the Celestial Dragons' dog, would the great Hero of the Marines have failed to become an admiral?
"Alright, that's enough. Quiet down. Don't make a scene in front of the youngsters."
Vice Admiral Tsuru gently tried to mediate, afraid those two unruly geezers would really come to blows on the spot.
Still, she had to admit she was quite pleased with Borsalino's impromptu tribute segment. Not for her own sake, but because of the long-term benefit it would bring to the navy.
Even someone like Zephyr, long since retired, seemed visibly moved by the gesture. One could only imagine the motivation it would spark in the younger generation—to one day receive such an honor upon retirement.
Though Borsalino hadn't outright stated that the tribute was reserved for Fleet Admirals, anyone could guess you'd at least need to be a highly decorated veteran vice admiral to earn that kind of sendoff.
"Ah, such a Borsalino—no, I mean, Fleet Admiral Borsalino kind of move," murmured Aokiji, standing on one side of the podium.
Since the Ohara incident, Kuzan's personality had grown increasingly laid-back, with very few things able to stir him anymore.
But that moment—watching tens of thousands of marines salute Sengoku in perfect unison—had ignited something inside him. A long-lost spark, a wave of emotion.
He found himself reminiscing about the days when he had just joined the navy, filled with nothing but dreams of upholding justice. That heat, long cooled, now seemed to simmer once more.
"..."
Sakazuki unusually held his tongue. After losing his chance to become Fleet Admiral, he had apparently discovered a new direction for his ambitions.
If he could one day retire to a scene like that—thousands of salutes, universal respect—then maybe not becoming Fleet Admiral wasn't such a bitter loss after all.
However, not everyone was thrilled by this show of unity within the navy.
Far away in Mary Geoise, the Five Elders had just barely managed to brush off some Celestial Dragons who were pestering them about the legendary Pure Gold—only to be confronted with a far more troubling scene on the broadcast.
Tens of thousands of elite marines following Borsalino's orders with absolute discipline. That alone was enough to make the Five Elders feel like they were sitting on a bed of needles.
Worse still, Borsalino's intentional tribute to Sengoku had rallied a good portion of the previously neutral officers under one banner—and more than that, it had established a dangerous precedent.
A role model.
A role model that could, one day, guide the marines toward independence from the World Government. A "Justice Navy" loyal to its ideals rather than its masters.
In theory, this might seem like a good thing.
But in the eyes of the Five Elders, the navy was meant to be a sword in the hands of the World Government—lapdogs under the Celestial Dragons' command.
Anyone who defied that order… was a traitor.
"We can't just sit back and let Borsalino do as he pleases. If we let this go on, by the time he retires, will the navy even still belong to the World Government?"
The one who broke the silence was Saint Warcury, usually the most pro-navy of the Five Elders, his beard thick and voice frigid.
But now, seeing even the slightest hint of the navy slipping from their control, he was the first to push back.
Truthfully, even if the navy was beginning to drift away from the World Government, any real separation was still decades—if not centuries—away.
At the very least, without independent funding, the navy had no chance of operating on its own.
That, more than anything, was why Warcury was panicking—because it meant his influence, which had always been tied to the Navy, would start to shrink.
"That Borsalino only just took office. A tribute to Sengoku is hardly a crime. If we act rashly, we might trigger something none of us are prepared for," said Ju Peter, trying to temper things.
Even though he also disapproved of Borsalino, he had no intention of provoking him before securing the latest tribute of Heavenly Gold.
Stability was crucial right now. They'd already had a major headache dealing with the Pure Gold fiasco among the Celestial Dragons. Thankfully, not many Celestial Dragons even knew about Pure Gold yet, so the pressure was still manageable.
But if the Heavenly Gold tribute fell apart too… and all the Celestial Dragons turned against them, not even the Five Elders—backed by Imu—could withstand their wrath.
Peter was already running himself into the ground over this. His once-golden hair had even begun to dull from stress.
"As long as we control the Navy's funding, we don't need to worry about Borsalino turning against us," scoffed Saint Nasjuro, the katana-wielding Elder. As the so-called Financial God of War, he was the most practical among them.
No organization could function without stable funding—least of all an institution like the Navy, with over a million personnel.
Not even Borsalino, with all his power and even the backing of Sengoku, could fund an independent Navy.
Over a million marines, thousands of warships, and hundreds of naval branches formed the largest armed force in history.
The Navy wasn't just a military entity capable of toppling nations—it was also an insatiable beast of gold and resources.
Even with Kizaru's treasure of Skypiea and a net worth that surpassed the Five Elders and most Celestial Dragons, he could never afford to support such a massive force on his own.
"Nasjuro is right. Just wait. Once the Seraphim are fully combat-ready… Thanks to Borsalino, we've got one thing in abundance right now—time."
Saint Mars gently stroked his proud long beard and spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice.
The other Five Elders also smiled upon hearing this. With pure gold in their hands, the last thing they feared was someone trying to outlast them in a game of patience.
Only Saint Warcury, who felt his authority being challenged, was in a foul mood. Yet even one of the exalted Five Elders couldn't go against the collective will of the other four when it came to dealing with Borsalino and the Navy.
Helpless, Warcury could only curse under his breath before shifting his attention back to the live broadcast screen, wanting to see what kind of stunt Borsalino was planning to pull next.
---
At Marineford, in the spectator seats some distance from the podium, Yonji—who had been laughing and joking earlier—had already zipped his mouth shut. The sight of tens of thousands of Navy troops standing in perfect silence had an undeniably intimidating presence.
Germa 66 was hailed as the "Experts of War," and that wasn't just because of its fearless clone soldiers or Judge's advanced modification technology. Having spent his youth on countless battlefields, Yonji himself was an accomplished military commander.
It was easy for him to sense just how strong the Navy was. Even if Germa 66 deployed its most elite cloned vanguard unit, they would likely still be no match for these forces.
Their army's might was lacking—and their individual strength couldn't compare at all.
Just a single glance from Yonji was enough to detect multiple figures emanating heavy pressure.
If a real fight broke out, there were probably dozens of people present who could beat him senseless. Even his eldest brother, Ichiji—the strongest of their trio—probably wouldn't even crack the top ten here.
As a modified human, Yonji had lost his emotions and fear, but that didn't make him brainless. Naturally, he wouldn't dare to stir up trouble in a place like this.
---
"Reiju, once the ceremony's over, come with me to pay respects to Admiral Kizaru."
Judge's voice was full of barely restrained excitement. From the Navy's performance just now, it was obvious—Borsalino, the new Fleet Admiral, had truly earned the respect of all.
And that meant… if they could earn Borsalino's friendship, it would be equivalent to winning the full support of the Navy. The restoration of the Germa Kingdom would no longer be a mere pipe dream!
"All right, I understand, Father."
Reiju lightly bit her lip, her beautiful eyes unblinking as she stared at Borsalino up on the stage.
Years had passed, and she was no longer the little girl she once was. Now, perhaps she could stand before Borsalino and show him just how much she had "grown."
"The hope of Germa's restoration rests entirely on your shoulders now, Reiju! If we can't secure the Navy's support, then no matter how many wars we fight or how much money we make from mercenary work, we'll never truly claim a place of our own!"
Judge recalled every past moment when they had come close to reviving the kingdom, only for one reason or another to ruin it all. His face darkened with a mix of rage and frustration.
If not for the World Government and the Navy constantly interfering behind the scenes, then with the strength of Germa 66, was there anywhere they couldn't seize land to rebuild their kingdom?
°°°
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