While Michael and Shamrock were in the middle of their sparring, more than ten people watched their battle. Among the spectators was the group of five elders in their office: Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, Saint Topman Warcury, Saint Marcus Mars, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, and Saint Shepherd Ju Peter. They observed the entire sequence of events unfold, witnessing every blow exchanged between the two fighters. The confrontation escalated to the point where Michael awakened his Conqueror's Haki, which he then used in the ensuing battle.
Nearly all five of the elders were shocked when they witnessed the awakening of Michael's Supreme King's Haki. Then the battle of attrition happened as they watched how Michael slowly ran out of gas as he was wasting a lot of haki in his fight against Shamrock, considering that he just awakened it, and then, they watched the last exchange between the two, as they saw how Michael was defeated, but just only by an inch.
"It seems it will not be long before we have another powerhouse to protect our holy land," Saint Warcury remarked after the live broadcast of Shamrock and Michael's duel concluded.
"You must be proud, Saint Ju Peter," Saint Ethanbaron said, his tone tinged with envy. "Your family grows stronger still. With Sommers already among the God's Knights—renowned as the Dagger of Mary Geoise—you now have another heir poised to join their upper echelon." His words carried a bitter edge; the current members of House Nusjuro were little more than entitled failures, squandering their potential.
"I am not proud," Saint Ju Peter replied coldly, his voice dripping with superiority. "He merely fulfills what is expected of one bearing two of the Holy Land's most prestigious bloodlines." His colleagues noted the insincerity in his words but chose not to acknowledge it.
"What do you think Garling's next move will be?" Saint Saturn mused. "His grand ambition won't be satisfied with merely being Supreme Commander of the God's Knights—you know how vast his pride is." He suspected Garling had deeper schemes brewing, but couldn't discern their shape.
Saint Ju Peter met Saturn's gaze, his expression indifferent. He, too, knew of Garling's machinations, yet he dismissed them as irrelevant. With both Michael and Sommers now positioned as potential successors, Ju Peter felt secure. Should Garling's ambitions provoke Imu's wrath and lead to his elimination, either heir could seamlessly replace him.
"It does not matter. What matters is that the Holy Land has gained another defender," Saint Ethanbaron interjected, shutting down the discussion of Garling's ambitions. "As servants of our god, our only concern should be what benefits the World Government." He shot a pointed glance at Saint Saturn—the sole elder who had once defied a direct order from Imu itself.
Nearly two centuries prior, the Iron Giant Emet had attacked Mary Geoise, inflicting significant damage before its power waned. In the aftermath, Imu commanded the machine's destruction. But when scientists arrived under Saint Saturn's supervision, he covertly redirected them to study it, hoping to weaponize the relic for the military. He'd even promised the researchers protection should their defiance ever come to light.
"Let us hope Michael has not been led astray and reaches his full potential," Saint Ethanbaron added. The other three elders nodded in agreement, though Saint Marcus remained silent, engrossed in reviewing a stack of documents. Unlike his colleagues, who often indulged in idle chatter, he approached his duties with unwavering diligence.
"What say you, Saint Marcus?" Saint Warcury inquired abruptly, breaking the man's focus. "What is your opinion of Michael?"
"My opinion holds little weight so long as he fulfills his duties," Saint Marcus replied. "But as a friend to Saint Ju Peter, I will offer this: Michael mirrors Garling in his youth. Their paths parallel one another. I suspect he seeks a greater challenge before ascending—one he will scour the seas to find." His response, though unsurprising to the four elders, resonated with one.
Saint Ju Peter understood. Having lived with Michael for fifteen years, he recognized the young man's ambitions, which had crystallized over five years of relentless training. Michael had always been quiet, aloof, and emotionally detached—his eyes betraying nothing but icy superiority. Even among Celestials, he disdained those he deemed weak, his gaze sharp with contempt. As his strength grew, so too did his scorn for those who wasted their potential.
"I'm curious to see what you will achieve in the future, Michael," Saint Ju Peter said, no longer paying attention to the debate among the four elders. They had shifted focus from Michael's battle to their agendas—mundane matters of policy and governance. Yet Ju Peter's mind lingered on the young warrior, replaying the sparring match and the raw potential it revealed.
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Garling, on the other hand, grinned like a madman as he watched the spar between his two sons—one far older than the other, yet fighting on equal footing. Though he'd played no direct role in their training, he credited Michael's strength to his bloodline, convinced of his superiority even over the five elders.
"If that trash hadn't fled back to the underworld and embraced his true lineage, I'd have three of the greatest warriors under my command," Garling mused, his voice dripping with disdain. "No matter. That waste still proves my blood is responsible for breeding such talent."
He was, of course, referring to Shanks, who, much like Homing, had rejected his Celestial Dragon heritage and the privileges it promised, wanting to live a normal life similar to those ordinary people.
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Meanwhile, Michael just goes back to his residence, being teleported into the main quarters of God's Knight, and then using his bunkai technique to go back to his castle directly, not wanting to walk.
"I've awakened my Conqueror's Haki. Once I master Observation Haki, I'll be one step closer to my goal," Michael muttered, alone in his room. His Conqueror's Haki crackled around him like a storm, its intensity mirroring his ambition: to become the strongest being in this world, stronger than Imu, stronger than even the prophesied Joyboy. Only then would he command the power to dictate his fate.
Strength was the foundation of every world, he knew. Whether in the brutal realm of Cain from The Strange Talent of Luther Strode in his past life, or this one, weakness invited subjugation, and Michael refused to kneel.