—Broadcast—
Originally, the members of the God's Knights had succeeded in their treacherous sneak attack and stood aside gloating over their tactical victory. Their arrogant expressions suggested they'd already won this confrontation decisively.
However, when they witnessed Wendy repairing her catastrophic eye wounds in mere seconds—corneas reforming, lenses reconstructing, vision returning with crystalline clarity—the triumphant smiles on their faces froze completely.
"It recovered that quickly?!" one warrior gasped, his voice carrying genuine shock. "What kind of creature possesses such regenerative capability?"
"Send the emergency signal immediately!" the second commanded, already reaching for the flare launcher at his belt. "We need to hold this monster back until reinforcements arrive!"
The strength of God's Knights members was obviously much higher than standard CP0 agents. They could skillfully employ two-color Haki—both Armament and Observation—with practiced ease. After drawing weapons, they could reach competent swordsman levels.
If they'd joined a large pirate crew instead of serving the Celestial Dragons, at best they might become squad captains. Respectable positions, but not legendary.
A signal flare representing extreme danger lit up in the sky above Mary Geoise's holy land—brilliant red sparks climbing toward the clouds, visible from every district.
As long as these two Celestial Dragon warriors could hold back the monster before them until proper reinforcements arrived, all problems would theoretically be solved. Superior numbers and firepower would overwhelm even this regenerating dragon.
That was the plan, anyway.
"I want you to pay the price," Wendy stated with cold finality, her voice no longer carrying childish desperation. Something fundamental had shifted in her psychology.
Because of the deliberate injury—the treacherous attack on her eyes while she'd been trying to peacefully rescue her brother—Wendy's fury had been completely ignited like gasoline meeting flame.
The natural energy contained in the sky began continuously gathering into her massive draconic body. Atmospheric particles that had been diffuse suddenly focused, drawn by supernatural magnetism toward the Sky Dragon.
Something that came from bloodline inheritance began integrating with her conscious thought and spiritual essence. Ancient instincts awakening. Predatory intelligence emerging from genetic memory.
Mary Geoise was experiencing the calm before an apocalyptic storm.
"Mjosgard, your sister is truly formidable," Hoshigaki Kisame observed with professional appreciation rather than criticism. His shark-like features showed something approaching respect.
The fish-man Admiral looked at the white feathered dragon across the devastated square. Natural energy contained in the atmosphere had begun creating wind around her—gentle breezes at first, then increasingly violent gusts.
Wendy herself was becoming the eye of a developing storm system. Low-density wind pressure began compressing outward with her massive form as the epicenter.
A tornado equivalent to Category 5 hurricane strength was brewing in the holy land of the Celestial Dragons. Meteorological devastation manifesting through sheer willpower and Devil Fruit power.
"Seiryū no Hadō!" (Sky Dragon's Wave Wind)
The tornado Wendy generated encompassed almost everything in the surrounding area with indiscriminate hunger. The vortex consumed:
Politicians from various nations who'd failed to evacuate in time—screaming as their feet left the ground.
Human remains from government agents killed earlier—body parts spinning in macabre orbit.
Slaves belonging to Celestial Dragons—people who'd spent their entire lives in chains now experiencing final moments of terrible freedom.
Numerous Celestial Dragons themselves—the supposedly divine beings who'd never imagined experiencing violence personally.
The moment these unfortunate individuals were sucked into the rotating winds, they were effectively sentenced to death. The horrific storm crushed them on the spot with pressure differentials that pulverized bone and liquefied tissue.
Not even traces of blood remained—just pink mist dispersing into the vortex.
The two God's Knights members could only dig their weapons deep into the ground—swords and spears serving as anchors against impossible wind speeds. Only through such desperate behavior could they avoid being sucked in during the initial formation.
However, as the tornado gathered mass and grew exponentially larger, there was soon no safe position remaining in the entire square. The ground itself began fragmenting, stones ripping free from centuries-old foundations.
Saint Mjosgard's entire body remained wrapped in protective blue light—the ethereal energy creating a wind-resistance effect that ensured he wouldn't be harmed by the tornado's fury. His sister was protecting him even while unleashing devastation on everyone else.
The only significant drawback: he couldn't communicate with Wendy verbally. Words he shouted were completely blocked by the terrifying roar of the wind—a sound like a thousand freight trains colliding simultaneously.
Faced with his sister gradually losing rational control, the brother felt profound heartbreak. Saint Mjosgard desperately wanted to stop Wendy from doing something catastrophically stupid.
The holy land of the Celestial Dragons was not as simple as surface appearances suggested. How many powerful individuals had been cultivated here across eight centuries? What hidden weapons and elite warriors existed in reserve?
Perhaps only the Five Elders who ruled from shadowy heights knew the complete answer.
The man fixed his gaze in the direction of his fish-man friend, searching for some hope of intervention. He saw that Hoshigaki Kisame had wrapped himself in a protective bubble—presumably created through some Devil Fruit ability or Haki technique—to prevent the Admiral from being swept into the storm.
From the fish-man's relaxed posture, he clearly had no intention of taking direct action. Who was Kisame waiting for? What calculation was running through that tactical mind?
A massive black tornado swept across the entire holy land, engulfing the execution square at terrifying speed. The vortex towered into the clouds—easily several hundred meters tall, visible from every location in Mary Geoise.
Celestial Dragons could witness the tornado wreaking absolute havoc regardless of where they'd taken shelter. Their supposedly inviolable sanctuary was being torn apart by an enraged child.
The God's Knights members who'd been so arrogant moments earlier couldn't escape the fate of being sucked into the rotating death trap. Even though they'd wrapped their entire bodies with Armament Haki—coating themselves in invisible armor that should protect against physical damage—they could only hold out for a few additional minutes.
Eventually, like other weaklings, they were turned into human debris and completely merged with the tornado. Their Haki shattered. Their bodies disintegrated. Their arrogance ended in anonymous death.
The situation was becoming increasingly serious, approaching the threshold where recovery became impossible. If no genuinely powerful defender from Mary Geoise stood forward, the home where Celestial Dragons had lived for more than eight hundred years would be overturned by a young girl just beginning to understand her capabilities.
The irony was almost poetic.
Then, from somewhere above, a voice cut through the wind's roar with absolute authority:
"STOP THIS FARCE IMMEDIATELY!"
A massive red slash descended from the sky like divine judgment—carrying terrifying Conqueror's Haki that made the very air tremble. The attack tore through the tornado with overwhelming force, splitting the vortex cleanly down its central axis.
This was the caliber of attack only achievable by a supreme-grade swordsman—someone who'd perfected their art across decades of relentless training and combat. The slash carried such concentrated power that it instantly broke Wendy's meteorological technique.
The Sky Dragon positioned in the eye of the storm also suffered damage from the slash. The blade penetrated her draconic defenses—scales that had resisted Armament Haki-enhanced attacks splitting under this superior technique.
The weapon broke through the Sky Dragon's natural armor, though it didn't cause catastrophic injury. Blood welled from a diagonal cut across her shoulder and flank.
The severe pain shocked Wendy from her rage-induced trance. The tornado that had been so devastatingly powerful moments ago finally dissipated, bringing unexpected peace to Mary Geoise's holy land.
The swordsman who'd attacked from distance walked slowly toward the incident scene with measured steps—each footfall carrying weight and authority.
This man possessed a distinctive crescent-shaped head—white hair swept back in an unusual formation that suggested either genetics or deliberate styling. He was clearly a powerful veteran from older eras.
He'd experienced the brutally cruel battle at God Valley thirty-eight years ago. The years had left many marks on his weathered features—scars, wrinkles, the weight of witnessing civilizations rise and fall.
"I was the one who sentenced Saint Mjosgard to death," the man stated without preamble or apology. "If you possess any complaints about that decision, you may address them to me directly."
Character Notes: Commander of the God's Knights
Saint Figarland Garling
"I have killed more monsters than you've seen in your lifetime."
The appearance of the God's Knights' supreme commander at the incident scene meant this matter had reached the absolute highest authorities' attention. Openly, only the Five Elders themselves could summon Saint Figarland Garling from whatever strategic position he normally occupied.
This farce had escalated beyond what lower-ranked personnel could manage.
Saint Figarland Garling's Observation Haki operated at extreme refinement—he could foresee probable futures within half-minute windows. His predictive combat abilities made him nearly impossible to surprise.
But what genuinely shocked this veteran warrior: the wound he'd inflicted on the White Feathered Dragon was recovering at speeds visible to the naked eye. Flesh knitting. Scales reforming. Blood flow stopping.
It took less than thirty seconds for the dragon to completely heal from damage caused by Conqueror's Haki-enhanced slashing. Saint Figarland Garling had only witnessed this level of abnormal Zoan recovery in one other creature: Kaido, King of the Beasts.
This white monster who called Donquixote Mjosgard "brother"—who exactly was she? What bloodline produced such resilience?
The elderly warrior's gaze shifted to the fish-man Marine who'd been observing developments without intervention. The newly appointed Admiral had been blatantly pretending to follow orders during this entire farce while refusing to actively protect Mary Geoise's safety.
The Marine—whose organizational strength was growing increasingly independent from World Government control—was becoming more and more presumptuous in their disregard for Celestial Dragon authority.
"I remember your designation is Hoshigaki Kisame, correct?" Saint Figarland Garling's voice carried dangerous edge. "Now that you've accepted the uniform of the Marine, you possess obligations to serve us Celestial Dragons. I'm profoundly dissatisfied with your attitude during this crisis."
He gestured toward the devastated square with one hand, the other still gripping his sword.
"Does this white monster causing such destruction have any connection to you? Did you deliberately allow this attack to proceed?"
Everyone possessed capability for throwing accusations and shifting blame. But Hoshigaki Kisame certainly wouldn't fall into such obvious verbal traps.
If he were evaluating situations purely from fish-man racial perspective, he'd actively hope all Celestial Dragons died in catastrophic warfare. No fish-man would deliberately forget the debt owed for Fisher Tiger's martyrdom.
Kisame dispersed the protective bubble that had been shielding him and retorted to the God's Knights Commander with icy precision:
"You Celestial Dragons created this crisis yourselves through your own actions. Don't attempt shifting responsibility onto fish-men for consequences you engineered."
He pointed toward Wendy's massive form.
"Didn't you hear that girl explicitly calling Mjosgard 'brother' multiple times? If we're discussing relationships, the attacker is also a Celestial Dragon by blood. This is your internal family dispute."
Kisame's shark-like grin showed teeth.
"As a lowly Marine and a Fishman, how can I dare to draw the blood of the God" Kisame teased/
Wendy possessed half the bloodline of the Donquixote Celestial Dragon family. This was genuinely a family affair among the Gods—internal power struggles and blood feuds that had nothing to do with external military forces.
Hoshigaki Kisame had absolutely no desire to involve himself in Celestial Dragon politics and invite unnecessary complications. The most entertaining approach was watching the Gods fight each other while he silently observed from safe distance.
Let them tear each other apart. Let their arrogance consume them from within.
Saint Figarland Garling's expression darkened with barely controlled fury, recognizing the fish-man's logic was technically sound even if politically infuriating.
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