—Broadcast—
To phrase things diplomatically, this farce represented an internal family affair among the Celestial Dragons. But fundamentally speaking, whether Wendy actually qualified as a true Celestial Dragon still required formal evaluation by the God Clan's internal authorities.
The Celestial Dragons—who indulged in promiscuous affairs with casual disregard for consequences—had scattered their seed across almost every region of the world. It was genuinely impossible to count how many offspring those pigs who only knew how to rape women had abandoned across the seas.
Generally speaking, most children born from unions between Celestial Dragons and "inferior races" would never obtain Celestial Dragon status. The class hierarchy was absolute and merciless:
Children born to inferior races remained classified as inferior races.
Children born to slaves remained slaves.
There existed an unbridgeable class gap during this entire historical period—a chasm maintained through systematic violence and ideological conditioning.
Through the Marine Admiral's words, Saint Figarland Garling had confirmed that the white monster before him possessed half Celestial Dragon blood in her veins. She was a Mythical Zoan user who could control devastating winds.
An extremely precious Devil Fruit—the kind that appeared perhaps once per generation—had been wasted on an outsider. Someone who'd never been properly cultivated within the God Clan's institutions.
What potential had been squandered? What weapon had they failed to forge?
"Mjosgard violated the fundamental taboos of the Celestial Dragons," Saint Figarland Garling stated coldly, his voice carrying absolute finality. "Therefore, executing him publicly is entirely reasonable and lawful. No one present here possesses authority to prevent me from killing the person I've been ordered to eliminate."
The elderly warrior placed his dominant hand on his sword's hilt, clearly prepared to deliver a fatal blow to Wendy's brother at any moment. With the attack speed Saint Figarland Garling had demonstrated earlier—that red slash from the sky—the young Mjosgard couldn't defend himself whatsoever.
Death would come before he could even register the blade's movement.
All wounds covering Wendy's massive draconic form had healed completely. Although the girl remained somewhat afraid of physical pain—that horrific sword wound hadn't broken bones, but it had certainly left psychological trauma—her brother's safety took absolute priority.
She couldn't sit idly by and watch her only remaining relative die directly before her eyes.
"If you dare kill him," Wendy's voice carried diamond-hard certainty, "I will drag everyone in this entire city to be buried alongside my brother. I never make threats I won't execute."
The natural energy contained in the sky—the vast reservoir of atmospheric power that the Sky Dragon Fruit allowed her to manipulate—began gathering under active guidance.
Energy covered the sky above Mary Geoise's holy land from all directions simultaneously. Restless molecules actively compressed together, creating impossible density gradients. Soon the entire sky became illuminated with blue luminescence, bathing the holy land of the Gods in eerie light.
It was beautiful. Apocalyptic. Mesmerizing in the way natural disasters often were.
Hoshigaki Kisame—who'd been contentedly observing developments from safe distance—felt his expression shift to genuine gravity. His professional instincts screamed warnings.
He sensed dangerous energy accumulating in the air above. If that thing currently forming in the atmosphere actually descended, Mary Geoise's holy land would face catastrophic destruction beyond anything the tornado had accomplished.
Through his extraordinarily refined Observation Haki—that half-minute window of precognitive sight—Saint Figarland Garling instantly witnessed a horrifying potential future.
What if he simply killed Saint Mjosgard as ordered, then immediately followed through by severing the dragon's head?
The vision showed consequences with absolute clarity:
The sky would be completely torn apart. A blue light representing death itself would descend with irresistible force. The technique didn't terminate upon its user's death—the energy already gathered would release regardless.
At that point, Mary Geoise's holy land would disappear on the physical level. Not damaged. Not destroyed. Erased.
A massive hole would be carved where the holy city had stood for eight centuries. The excavation would be so deep it might echo all the way down to Fish-Man Island ten thousand meters below.
Saint Figarland Garling foresaw this apocalyptic future with perfect clarity. This was one of Wendy's ultimate techniques—something she'd comprehended instinctively through her Devil Fruit connection:
The Secret of Destruction: Breaking Through the Sky
If deployed, the terrifying power would genuinely possess capability to kill gods.
Figarland could only guarantee his own survival. His decades of combat experience and supreme-grade techniques might allow him to escape the blast radius.
As for the other Celestial Dragons residing in Mary Geoise's holy land? Most would be eliminated instantly—thousands of people erased in one cataclysmic release. Only a handful with sufficient power or fortunate positioning might survive.
Neither side could accept such an outcome. The political consequences would be catastrophic beyond calculation.
"Stop," Saint Figarland Garling commanded, his voice carrying unusual urgency. "It benefits neither party to continue this confrontation. You don't want Saint Mjosgard to die, correct?"
After delivering these words intended to de-escalate the crisis, the elderly Celestial Dragon retrieved a Den Den Mushi from inside his coat and immediately contacted the Five Elders.
He informed them of all current complications without embellishment or deflection.
Saint Figarland Garling absolutely did not want to become recorded in history as the sinner who allowed Mary Geoise's destruction. Let the five ancient rulers decide how to handle this impossible situation.
The Five Elders grasped the matter's extreme seriousness within seconds. In order not to disturb the supreme being dwelling in the deepest chambers—that individual whose very existence remained classified—they dispatched a representative to negotiate throughout this crisis.
It wouldn't benefit anyone if both sides simply escalated to mutual annihilation.
A man with distinctive hat appeared—white beard covering his entire face, black suit immaculate despite the surrounding devastation. He radiated the profound majesty that only came from wielding absolute authority for decades.
This was one of the Five Elders—the highest rulers of the World Government, among the most honored Celestial Dragons in existence.
"You've completed your role here, Saint Figarland Garling," the bearded Elder stated with calm authority. "Leave the remainder to me. I'll handle negotiations personally."
Character Notes: Five Elders – Science Defense Martial God
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn
"Everything can be negotiated. Everything has a price."
The God's Knights Commander recognized his mission was accomplished. Saint Figarland Garling didn't linger unnecessarily—before formal conversations between parties could begin, the old warrior who shared mysterious connections with certain pirates departed from everyone's sight as quickly as possible.
His crescent-shaped head disappeared into the rubble-strewn streets, leaving Elder Saturn to manage the diplomatic crisis.
Since both parties wanted to initiate negotiations, they should speak frankly and state their demands clearly. Wendy's requirements were straightforward and non-negotiable:
First: Her brother Saint Mjosgard must face no danger to his life. No execution. No assassination. Complete safety guaranteed.
Second: His existing noble status must not be stripped or diminished. All privileges restored to pre-arrest conditions.
She would only choose to leave Mary Geoise if everything returned to exactly how it was before this crisis began.
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn frowned slightly at this proposal, his ancient mind calculating political costs.
So many people had died today—not merely some of the Celestial Dragons' disposable lackeys, but also numerous ruling nobles from member nations. Politicians with families. Diplomatic connections. Trade relationships.
Although the Five Elders didn't particularly care about those lives individually, they cared profoundly about the Celestial Dragons' public image and perceived invincibility.
If Wendy was permitted to leave safely after killing hundreds, and Saint Mjosgard received exemption from punishment for his alien sympathies, what message would that send? Did the God Clan truly possess no dignity whatsoever?
If other pirates followed the girl's example—realizing that sufficient force could compel compromise—then everyone with power would attempt raiding Mary Geoise. The holy land would become a proving ground for ambitious warriors.
This precedent absolutely could not be established. Authority demanded consequences for violence against the Gods.
Saint Saturn employed his ancient manipulative tactics—techniques perfected across decades of political maneuvering.
"Your two demands are excessive and unbalanced," he stated calmly, stroking his white beard. "If you genuinely want to achieve both conditions simultaneously, you must agree to one of my requirements in exchange."
He paused deliberately, allowing tension to build.
"Join the God's Knights to atone for your brother's sins. Serve the Celestial Dragons loyally. Your combat capability earns his freedom."
The Five Elders had been genuinely impressed by Wendy's displayed talent and overwhelming strength—precisely as they'd been impressed by Bartholomew Kuma years earlier. The Celestial Dragons constantly needed high-end combat power to maintain their position. The girl before them was absolutely worth cultivating and studying.
As for extracting the bloodline factor from her Mythical Dragon Devil Fruit? There currently existed only one dragon-type sample in Mary Geoise's laboratories—Kaido's stolen genetic material.
Saint Saturn didn't mind acquiring a second specimen for Dr. Vegapunk's research programs.
"I don't agree! Wendy, you absolutely must not accept this!" Mjosgard's voice rang out despite his weakened condition. "If you join the God's Knights, you'll lose your freedom entirely! You'll become their property!"
The condemned man wasn't afraid of death whatsoever. He certainly wouldn't allow his sister to sacrifice herself for his worthless existence.
In Mjosgard's perception, Wendy was a bird yearning for boundless freedom. She couldn't be caged by anyone or anything. The only place a girl like her should live was the unrestrained sky—flying wherever wind currents carried her, answerable to no authority.
Wendy—who possessed limited experience making independent decisions under pressure—couldn't choose between these impossible options. Her brother was telling her to refuse. But she also couldn't accept Saint Mjosgard losing his life.
For several long moments, the girl remained entangled in indecision. She wasn't skilled at navigating such complex political negotiations where every word carried hidden implications.
Witnessing the conversation's atmosphere reaching complete stalemate—neither side agreeing to the other's fundamental conditions—both Saint Saturn and Wendy proved unwilling to yield. Neither would make concessions for the other party.
This represented both a conflict of practical interests and a matter of irreducible pride.
At this critical moment—when negotiations seemed destined for violent collapse—a chilly breeze blew into Mary Geoise's holy land from the ocean beyond.
The wind carried unfamiliar scents. Salt spray. Distant storms. Freedom itself.
An unexpected mediator was about to appear on the devastated execution grounds.
Someone neither side had anticipated. Someone whose intervention would transform this standoff in ways nobody could predict.
The temperature dropped perceptibly as footsteps approached through the rubble.