The morning after the spar, Michael was seen walking toward the God's Knight quarters—an unusual sight. Ever since he had mastered teleportation, he rarely traveled on foot. But today was different. His steps were slow, deliberate, his mind replaying the events of yesterday's battle. Every strike, every technique, every movement—he analyzed them all, dissecting the flaws within his own fighting style.
He was an incredibly strong swordsman and Haki user, able to match Shamrock's strength using only his advanced Armament Haki. And now, he had crossed a threshold that many Conqueror's Haki users never reached—coating his strikes with it. He was a jack of all trades, but even then, a quiet frustration gnawed at him.
Despite possessing the combined talents of Roger, Luffy, and Cain—legends in their own right—he still hadn't reached the pinnacle in any one discipline. His Observation Haki was powerful, but he had yet to unlock true future sight. His Armament Haki was formidable, but it hadn't reached the unshakable might of Garp's. His Conqueror's Haki, while awakened, remained raw and untamed.
Even his Devil Fruit, though expertly wielded, was still unawakened. And in the art of the sword, which he prided himself most on, he could unleash flying slashes—but he knew he hadn't yet entered the same realm as Mihawk.
Michael came to a quiet realization: if he truly wanted to become the strongest being to ever exist in this world, he couldn't rely on being merely versatile. He had to master every category—to stand unrivaled in each.
Now, to achieve his goal, Michael knew what he had to do—he had to fight for his life.
That was the reason Luffy had risen to become an Emperor of the Sea: his grand ambition, his refusal to fall, and an undying will to live. Michael shared that ambition, but now he understood something deeper—despite all his claims of not fearing death, his body had always refused to die. Time and again, it pushed past its limits, breaking through every boundary set before it.
Even though he sparred daily with monsters like Shamrock and Garling, even though they tried to simulate life-or-death combat, Michael could sense it—they were holding back. They didn't want to kill him. And deep down, that safety net kept him from truly evolving.
Now, for the first time, Michael realized what he needed to do.
He needed to reject his immortality.
Only by doing so could he throw himself into the fire with no guarantee of survival, no certainty of return. Only then could he reach the edge where true strength was forged.
Now, he understood that he couldn't die of old age—not with Cain's Hercules Method coursing through his body, granting him both immortality and a powerful healing factor. But even that was nothing compared to the regeneration possessed by the God's Knights and the Elders. He had seen the difference firsthand—Saint Saturn regenerating an entire arm within seconds, despite having been slashed repeatedly, or Gunko, whose face was obliterated by Usopp. Even with parts of his brain missing, he still regenerated in moments, as if nothing had happened.
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In the Main Castle of the God's Knights, inside the Supreme Commander's office, Figarland Garling was seen speaking to a man wearing a plain suit jacket and pants of black (dark maroon in the anime and colored manga), paired with a white, buttoned-up, tieless dress shirt with a wingtip collar low enough to reveal a scar stretching from his lower cervical area down toward his right armpit. The man also had white (blond in the anime and colored manga) hair kept in a short taper cut, connected to a chin curtain beard and mustache. It was none other than Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, the Warrior God of Agriculture, and one of the Five Elders governing the world.
"What do you think of the boy's current development? Do you think he's ready?" the Elder asked Garling, clearly referring to Michael as they discussed whether he was prepared to officially join the God's Knights.
"His strength is there—there's no denying it. In the history of the God's Knights, no one has ever matched a Commander at such a young age," Garling replied, affirming that Michael's power was more than sufficient.
"We both know that's not what I'm asking," Saint Ju Peter said, clarifying the true intent of his question.
"I think he's far too young—but that hardly matters. In the end, strength is what counts, and he already has enough of it," Garling answered bluntly, expressing his belief that despite Michael only being 15 years old, his raw strength alone made him ready to handle whatever lay ahead.
"Very well. I will support you if you bring this notion to the other Elders. I know that the standard training period before being qualified to become a God's Knight is fifteen years—but we both know that rule only applies to those disappointments who waste the World Government's resources," Saint Ju Peter said, finalizing his decision regarding his grandson with an absentee father.
"Very well. Is that all?" Garling asked, wondering if Ju Peter had any other matters to discuss.
"Yes, that is all. I will leave you to it, then, Garling," Saint Ju Peter said, pointedly omitting any respectful address. As one of the Five Elders, he was still above Garling, despite their cooperation.
After Ju Peter left the room, Garling clenched his fist so tightly that his nails nearly punctured his palm. The blatant lack of respect stung. He gritted his teeth, clearly offended by being referred to merely by name, without the title he believed he deserved.
'One day, one of you will make a mistake—one that will cost your life. When that day comes, I will be the one to take your place. Let's see how arrogant you'll be once I'm sitting on the throne you've grown so comfortable in,' Garling thought bitterly, seething with silent rage.
[Ju Peter's POV]
As he walked through the corridor, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of Ju Peter's lips. He had deliberately called Garling by name, not by rank, as a calculated insult. Garling had begun to speak to him as though they were equals, when in reality, they were not. This subtle power play served as a reminder of that truth.
'Oh, I would give anything to see his face right now, Ju Peter mused, pleased by the thought of Garling stewing in fury. No matter. With Michael's talent and strength, Garling will never achieve his dream of occupying a seat among the Elders. It doesn't matter that he's next in line—if Michael is stronger, then he will have no choice but to bow his oversized head and abandon his ideals.'
Ju Peter believed that Michael would come of age long before any of the Five Elders needed replacing. Perhaps it would never even be necessary. But still, there was comfort in knowing that Michael might one day inherit a position they had each fought tooth and nail to attain.