One Piece: King of the World

As time passed, with only five hours remaining until the scheduled execution, Vice Admirals Nezumi, Strawberry, and Onigumo successfully escorted Thatch, Weevil, and Buckin to Marine Headquarters.

Unlike Portgas D. Ace, who received the full spotlight when he was captured, these three didn't get any "main character" treatment. They were brought in discreetly and would remain in custody until it was time to move them to the execution platform.

That special treatment was reserved for Ace alone. Though ironically, Ace was currently still living his pirate life in the New World, blissfully unaware of the situation. In fact, at this very moment, he was probably planning to raid Whitebeard's territory to claim it for himself.

Meanwhile, Thatch, Buckin, and Weevil were already kneeling on the execution platform, exposed under the scorching sun.

The Marines, too, were organizing themselves into well-ordered formations.

Once Vice Admirals Nezumi, Strawberry, and Onigumo returned, Marine Headquarters' senior officers began taking their positions.

The Marines had always embraced an unspoken rule in battle: commanders must lead from the front. After all, in this world, personal strength can often turn the tide of war.

Thus, at the front of the formation stood the Vice Admirals of Marine Headquarters.

Meanwhile, directly beneath the execution platform, on either side of the three Admiral thrones, the Marine giant Vice Admirals stood tall. Their task was clear: prevent aerial assaults, particularly from enemies like Marco the Phoenix, who could fly in and attempt a swift rescue.

The three Admiral thrones remained unoccupied for now. Just above the central seat, on a slightly higher platform, stood a single grand, luxurious chair reserved for Claudius.

Not long after, the Marineford radio system crackled to life, instructing all units to activate the live broadcast feed.

Sabaody Archipelago

On Sabaody Archipelago, Silvers Rayleigh sat atop a rooftop, lazily leaning against a chimney with a bottle of sake in hand. Across from him, a massive live broadcast screen towered over the square, surrounded by a growing crowd of spectators, mostly reporters eager to document this unprecedented event.

The screen, initially black, suddenly flickered to life. In an instant, the scene shifted to reveal Marineford: tens of thousands of Marines assembled in Justice Square, all wearing grim, resolute expressions. The intensity of their collective presence radiated even through the screen, pressing down on the watching crowd like a physical force.

The oppressive aura was undeniable. It was the aura of a world-dominating military power.

"That's... a lot of Marines. There must be tens of thousands of them, right?"

"Are you blind? Marineford's brought in one hundred thousand elite troops from around the world! And don't forget the three Admirals, Hero Garp, and all the top Vice Admirals!"

"With that kind of force, no one on the sea stands a chance. The Whitebeard Pirates are doomed."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Whitebeard is the strongest man alive. He has the power to destroy the world. Numbers might not mean much against him."

"True, but he's getting old. Word is his health isn't what it used to be."

Rayleigh furrowed his brows at that comment. The reporters weren't wrong, Newgate was old, just like himself. While Rayleigh's strength had diminished due to inactivity, Whitebeard had been worn down by years of battle and chronic injuries.

Can he still handle it? Rayleigh wondered, a trace of worry passing through his mind.

Suddenly, the murmurs around him grew louder. The reporters were buzzing with excitement.

"Look, it's the Seven Warlords of the Sea!"

"Boa Hancock! The world's most beautiful woman! Why aren't they giving her more screen time?!"

"That's Marshall D. Teach, isn't it? The traitor who started this war!"

"They're positioning the Warlords on the front lines but notice how they're slightly separated from the Marines."

"Of course they are. The Warlords are still pirates, even if they have legal permission to plunder."

"Isn't Doflamingo supposed to be part of CP-X?"

"That's just a rumor. No one's ever confirmed it."

"Hey, there's Crocodile—Alabasta's 'National Hero'."

"And Mihawk... look at those eyes! They pierce through the screen like a hawk's!"

Meanwhile, in Marineford itself, the Seven Warlords stood in formation.

Doflamingo chuckled to himself, scratching his chin. "Fufufufu... What a grand spectacle."

Mihawk, standing beside him with his arms crossed, muttered, "A first for the world."

Despite their outward nonchalance, all of them felt the heavy tension in the air.

Teach stood stiffly, arms folded, eyes locked on the horizon where Marine warships patrolled the distant sea. He fully expected Whitebeard to arrive from that direction.

I hope these Marines give you hell, Pops... Teach thought to himself. They'll slow you down just enough.

Little did he know that Whitebeard would soon rise from the very seabed beneath his feet.

Hancock, meanwhile, lounged regally atop Salome, her massive snake coiled beneath her. With an air of haughty indifference, she gazed into the distance. Even without speaking, her beauty captivated the broadcast audience.

Suddenly, the live feed shifted focus to the three Admirals.

Kuzan was the first to ascend the steps to his seat, his lazy posture unchanged. Behind him came Sakazuki, marching with rigid discipline, followed by Borsalino, who sauntered forward with his characteristic casualness.

Upon sitting, Sakazuki planted both feet firmly on the ground, his expression stern. Borsalino stretched his legs out with a bored look. Kuzan slouched forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his palm, as if the entire event was a nuisance.

"Marine Admirals! All three of them are here!"

"With all three in action, Whitebeard doesn't stand a chance!"

"Wait, what are you talking about? Big Mom was taken out by Saint Claudius, not the Admirals."

"So what? Look at that chair above Sakazuki. Who do you think it's for?"

"Isn't it for the Fleet Admiral?"

"Are you stupid? Sengoku will be on the execution platform. That seat's for Claudius!"

As if on cue, two more figures appeared at the top of the steps.

The man in front wore a white suit over a brown-black coat. His short blond hair was neatly styled, and his gait radiated natural authority. As he passed the Admirals, the atmosphere seemed to thicken with tension.

Trailing behind him was a second man, dressed entirely in black with a cold, impassive expression.

At CP-X's Mariejois station, Jabra glared at the screen and growled, "Damn it. That bastard Lucci gets to stand behind Saint Claudius?"

Kalifa, standing nearby, scoffed. "What do you expect? He's Claudius Saint's personal guard. Try to keep up."

Indeed, the black-clad man was Lucci. As Claudius's right-hand enforcer, he naturally followed his master everywhere.

Claudius ascended the steps with measured steps. When he reached the throne, he paused. Lucci stepped forward without needing a signal, removed Claudius's coat, and folded it neatly over his arm. Then he moved aside and stood at attention like a dutiful servant.

Claudius settled into the chair, leaning slightly to his left. He rested his left elbow on the armrest and lightly touched his chin with his fingers. One leg crossed over the other. His gaze swept across the square—calm, unreadable, yet unmistakably commanding.

He never spoke a word, yet his presence dominated the broadcast.

For years, Claudius's name had been whispered across the seas, a figure of legend. Yet few had seen his face. The only existing public photograph was a distorted battle snapshot taken from the side.

Now, for the first time, the world saw him clearly.

"That's him? Saint Claudius?"

"No doubt about it. Look at those eyes, proud, indifferent... but somehow, it fits perfectly."