"Brainless brute!"
T'Challa looked at M'Baku before him and made his assessment.
But M'Baku's arrival was timely; he needed a heavyweight opponent to prove his strength so he could rightfully serve as the new King of Wakanda.
"I accept your challenge, M'Baku."
T'Challa nodded without hesitation.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
On the sidelines, the Wakandans acting as the hype team struck the ground and leather drums with wooden staves; the rhythm was primal yet strangely catchy, making everyone's blood boil.
Amidst this wild BGM, T'Challa and M'Baku each donned totem masks symbolizing their faiths, standing on opposite sides of the platform by the water.
Around them, elite warriors of the Royal Guard and the Jabari Tribe formed a circle with spears in hand, the tips pointing inward, demarcating a dangerous dueling ground.
"For the glory of Hanuman!"
M'Baku's fighting spirit surged as he shouted the name of the Ape God he believed in.
"Wakanda Forever!"
T'Challa's voice was steady and powerful.
He didn't call out to Bast, the Panther God his clan worshipped, but chose the name of the entire kingdom instead, showing high emotional intelligence.
High on the platform, several tribal leaders heard this and showed approving looks.
They each had their own totems; T'Challa's words undoubtedly showed he placed himself above all tribes—he was for all of Wakanda, not just the royal family or the Black Panther clan.
His perspective widened instantly.
In contrast, M'Baku was simply a simpleton.
In this setting to decide the new King of Wakanda, you're shouting "for your Ape God"; if you became king, wouldn't the totems of other tribes always be inferior to your Ape God?
What M'Baku didn't know was that he had already lost this battle from the start.
"Roar!"
M'Baku let out a loud roar, his heavy wooden mace cutting through the air as he took the lead in attacking T'Challa.
Although the Ape God clan wasn't very bright, their physical fitness was the best among all Wakandan tribes.
The mace danced with formidable power in M'Baku's hands; T'Challa raised his shield to block several times, but the impact left his arms numb, nearly causing him to lose his grip.
T'Challa didn't go head-to-head with M'Baku; instead, he chose to use technique to engage in a struggle, constantly wearing down M'Baku's stamina.
Meanwhile, the surrounding spears were slowly closing in, compressing their active area like a shrinking poison circle, until only a small circle less than three meters wide remained at the edge of the cliff.
Unable to land a blow for a long time and with most of his stamina spent, M'Baku inevitably grew impatient, revealing an opening in his movements.
T'Challa seized the opportunity, striking M'Baku's knee pit and dragging him to the ground, grabbing M'Baku's arm with his hands while his two hairy legs tightly locked around his neck, exerting sudden force.
This was a standard joint lock; once formed, it was almost impossible to break unless one used a lighter to burn the opponent's foot.
Unfortunately, M'Baku didn't have a smoking habit; trapped in this "strong man lock" by T'Challa, no matter how great his strength, he could hardly break free.
But in this battle, there was only death or surrender.
As the leader of the Jabari Tribe, M'Baku would rather die in battle than surrender.
Seeing M'Baku's face turn red from suffocation, T'Challa kindly advised: "You have already defended your honor in battle. Surrender quickly; your people still need you."
Hearing the way out T'Challa offered, M'Baku decisively tapped T'Challa's thigh to signal his surrender.
T'Challa immediately released M'Baku.
M'Baku collapsed on the ground, gasping for air, not forgetting to explain.
"I'm not afraid of death; I'm only doing this for my people."
"Yes, yes, yes."
T'Challa rolled his eyes, ignored the simpleton, and stood up, raising his arm high.
The Purple-Robed Elder timely announced loudly: "The winner—T'Challa!"
"T'Challa! T'Challa! T'Challa!"
Everyone watching cheered in unison.
This battle earned T'Challa everyone's respect.
After the Jabari tribesmen helped M'Baku down, the Purple-Robed Elder looked around: "Are there any other challengers?"
No one on the platform responded.
Even a powerhouse like M'Baku couldn't defeat T'Challa, let alone anyone else.
Seeing this, the Purple-Robed Elder nodded: "In that case, I hereby announce that the new King of Wakanda is T—"
"I challenge!"
An unfamiliar voice suddenly came from the entrance of the passage.
There's another expert?
Everyone looked toward the sound and saw Killmonger dragging a sack out, followed by Darian, who had undergone a facial modification.
Seeing these two unfamiliar faces, especially Darian, who was clearly not Wakandan, everyone present immediately became alert.
"Who are you!?"
Okoye, the Captain of the Royal Guard, raised her spear and questioned sharply.
"I am NJadaka, son of Prince NJobu!"
Killmonger directly stated his true identity.
"What!?"
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd.
NJobu was the younger brother of the old king, T'Chaka; he had been sent to America as a spy years ago, and news of his death eventually arrived.
Only a very few high-ranking officials knew that on the day NJobu completely lost contact, T'Chaka had taken Wakanda's stealth ship to America to secretly search for NJobu, and upon his return, he announced NJobu's death.
Their imaginations ran wild for a moment, but they didn't dare think too much.
After all, the struggle for the throne had always been like this.
But they didn't know NJobu actually had a son.
T'Challa looked bewildered; he had never heard his father mention this.
He turned to look at his mother, Queen Ramonda, but saw she was also confused, clearly unaware.
T'Challa frowned and stared at Killmonger, asking: "How do you prove your identity?"
Killmonger didn't answer, but simply flipped his lower lip, revealing a subcutaneous fluorescent blue tattoo.
That was the unique identity mark of Wakandan personnel stationed abroad.
Any Wakandan living abroad would use high technology to get this mark to prove their identity.
In fact, hidden on Killmonger's tongue was also a tattoo of the "Tun" hexagram, similar to the "Heaven Mountain Retreat."
It was the Seal of Tongue-Root Eradication.
If he attempted to speak preset forbidden words or related information, his whole body would immediately be paralyzed, unable to speak or move.
This was a mission reward Darian had obtained previously.
He had placed this seal on every HYDRA member to prevent leaks from truth serums or accidents.
Of course, the Seal of Tongue-Root Eradication generally wouldn't manifest actively, so there was no risk of identity being recognized through the seal.
Although Killmonger had been submissive lately, Darian never truly trusted him.
To prevent Killmonger from developing any bad ideas after the plan's success, Darian had also placed the Seal of Tongue-Root Eradication on him.
Not only that, HYDRA technicians had also implanted various safeguards in Killmonger's body, ensuring his life was always in Darian's hands.
Darian hadn't used a brainwashing device on Killmonger; if he ended up like Bucky, it would be easy for people to notice something was wrong.
Having Wanda use Chaos Magic wasn't practical either; such magic brainwashing effects needed regular maintenance, and she couldn't be expected to travel frequently between Sokovia and Wakanda.
Killmonger didn't dare raise any objections, nor did he have the capital to refuse.
Even if he really became the King of Wakanda and controlled the entire nation, he had no confidence at all in defeating Darian's mysterious forces.
Since he couldn't resist, he might as well lie back and enjoy it!
Seeing the tattoo on Killmonger's lower lip, T'Challa shook his head: "This only proves you are Wakandan; it doesn't fully confirm your specific identity."
"Then how about this?"
Killmonger took a strangely shaped ring from his bosom.
T'Challa's pupils constricted slightly.
He recognized this ring; back then, his Grandpa had given a pair of identical rings to his two sons, T'Chaka and NJobu.
T'Challa had a similar ring himself, given to him by T'Chaka.
"So you really are NJobu's son."
Knowing the other's identity, T'Challa's tone softened, carrying a hint of closeness.
Of course, if he knew his father had killed the other's father, he probably wouldn't have this reaction.
"But who is he?"
T'Challa's gaze turned to Darian behind Killmonger, his expression becoming serious again: "We Wakandans do not allow outsiders to enter."
Darian smiled slightly: "I am his relative, not an outsider."
Everyone: "..."
Bullshit, you don't even have the same skin tone; where did this relative relationship come from?
Killmonger explained somewhat awkwardly: "Ahem, he's my cousin—the son of my mother's younger cousin's wife's cousin. He's American."
Hearing this extremely distant relative relationship, everyone was speechless.
A tribal Elder said coldly: "Even so, he is not Wakandan. According to regulations, he cannot enter Wakanda."
Killmonger didn't argue; he just threw the sack in front of him, and a corpse rolled out.
"This is Ulysses Klaue, that damned little thief!"
Many people present recognized the identity of the corpse, and a wave of shocked and angry murmurs immediately broke out.
If one were to name the person Wakandans hated most, it would surely be Klaue.
Years ago, Klaue led a group of thugs to sneak into Wakanda to steal Vibranium and killed many of their compatriots; the Wakandans hated him to the bone.
"That's right, this is indeed Klaue, the wicked Vibranium thief."
Killmonger raised his voice: "My... cousin and I went through great hardships to track him down and fought to the death to wipe out him and his gang of thugs! We have protected the honor of Wakanda! We have avenged those innocent compatriots who died tragic deaths!"
"With such a favor, are we not even worthy of the qualification to step onto Wakandan soil!?"
Everyone fell silent upon hearing this.
Someone still whispered hesitantly: "But he is ultimately not Wakandan..."
Before the words were finished, they were met with fierce glares from dozens of eyes around them, including two tribal Elders.
They all had relatives who died in that riot years ago; Darian helping them kill Klaue was undoubtedly avenging their loved ones, a favor that could never be fully repaid.
If they wouldn't even let the person into their home, they'd probably slap themselves upon waking up in the middle of the night.
"In that case, he is an honored guest of Wakanda and fully qualified to stay here."
T'Challa made his decision, then looked closely at Killmonger, changing the subject.
"However, you just said you wanted to challenge me?"
"That's right!"
Killmonger stepped forward and said loudly: "As the son of NJobu, by the right bestowed upon me by the royal blood flowing through my veins, I challenge you for the title of King of Wakanda!"
T'Challa's expression changed slightly.
He hadn't expected a cousin he had never met to come and fight him for the throne of Wakanda.
"Fine! I accept your challenge!"
T'Challa agreed without much thought.
The people on the scene looked shocked.
Two royal bloodlines fighting for the position of King of Wakanda, this really is...
"So exciting!"
Everyone immediately turned to look.
Who had the guts to say what they were thinking out loud?
As it turned out, the one speaking was Darian, that outsider.
He had found a spot closest to the platform to sit, holding a large Bucket of Popcorn, watching the two in the center with great interest, as if he couldn't wait for them to start fighting.
This is a sacred ritual combat, not the UFC!
Everyone gritted their teeth.
But since T'Challa had already acknowledged Darian's status as a guest, they had to pretend they didn't see him.
The Purple-Robed Elder cleared his throat to pull everyone's attention back: "Since the challenge has been established, the ritual must be followed. The loser faces only death or surrender; the winner is king!"
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Driven by the hype team, T'Challa and Killmonger each stood on one side of the platform.
"You just went through a battle. I can let you rest for a while before we start, so people don't say I'm a bully."
Killmonger took the weapon handed over by the Purple-Robed Elder and took off his clothes, revealing the dense bumps all over his body; the density was enough to make someone with trypophobia faint.
"No need. Let's go."
T'Challa raised his spear and shield, taking a stance.
Killmonger stared at T'Challa and suddenly asked: "Are you sure you no longer have the power of the Black Panther in your body?"
T'Challa thought Killmonger was worried he would cheat and said frankly: "Rest assured, I have already purged the Black Panther's power in front of everyone. This battle will be absolutely fair and just."
Killmonger grinned: "Then I'll have to be careful not to accidentally kill you."
T'Challa's mouth twitched; what an arrogant fellow.
"Watch closely, don't die too easily."
As Killmonger's voice fell, his figure suddenly burst forward, thrusting the short spear in his hand toward T'Challa.
T'Challa quickly raised his shield to block.
Clang!
Accompanied by a sharp sound, T'Challa retreated several steps.
He was shocked; the other's strength was actually several points stronger than M'Baku's.
Without waiting for T'Challa to adjust, Killmonger's offensive came again, his moves extremely ruthless, all aimed at fatal vitals.
Killmonger had already eaten the skewers beforehand, and his already enhanced physical fitness had surged again; he could hold his own against T'Challa even if the latter had taken the Heart-Shaped Herb, let alone T'Challa who had now lost its effects.
T'Challa was suppressed by Killmonger to the point where he couldn't counterattack at all, only able to defend.
After several exchanges, many scratches were left on T'Challa's shield, and his left arm holding it was aching and numb.
He couldn't fight head-on.
T'Challa quickly changed his strategy, switching to the moves he used against M'Baku, seizing a gap to forcibly tackle Killmonger to the ground, wrapping his hairy legs around Killmonger's neck.
"Nice! My brother has that guy locked!"
T'Challa's sister, Shuri, cheered from the front row.
"You're wrong. In my view, it's NJadaka who has your brother locked."
Darian had leaned over at some point, cracking melon seeds.
Just as he said.
In the next second, Killmonger suddenly used his powerful core strength to forcibly pull T'Challa up and slam him onto the ground.
T'Challa let out a muffled groan of pain and couldn't help but release his legs.
Shuri said in disbelief: "This guy is actually that powerful!"
She thought that with her brother's strength, defeating a Killmonger who appeared out of nowhere would be no problem at all.
She didn't expect that in such a short time, T'Challa would fall completely into a disadvantage.
Darian shook his head and spoke like a commentator: "You don't understand what NJadaka has been through at all. He enlisted as soon as he became an adult and later joined the American Death Squad, participating in countless battles and killing countless enemies. He eventually successfully tempered his body into that of a devil-muscled man, becoming famous throughout the world for his Leopard Style Fist, earning him the nickname 'Leopard'."
Shuri was shocked: "Then isn't my brother in great danger?"
Darian nodded heavily: "Yes, unless your brother can break NJadaka's Leopard Style Fist."
"May I ask what the Leopard Style Fist is?"
"Then I'll have to explain it properly. The Leopard Style Fist is..."
The two began to chat while eating Popcorn, completely ignoring the two people still fighting for their lives on the field.
Queen Ramonda: "..."
"Your brother is about to be beaten to death, and you're in the mood to sit here eating Popcorn and chatting!"