Ron glanced at Eric.
"I'm not an outsider; I've come to reclaim my country."
Taking a step forward, Eric emphasized, revealing the glowing blue identity proof caused by the special markings in every Wakandan's lower lip.
"And I've brought a gift for my country."
He unzipped the body bag.
Revealing a head with eyes wide open in death.
"Ulysses Klaue, it's him!
He's dead, excellent."
"This despicable thief and murderer is finally dead."
The others shouted excitedly. Frontier Tribe Chief W'Kabi, the Master of the Frontier Tribe, stared hatefully at the corpse of his father's killer, breathing heavily.
Though he said nothing, his expression was far from calm.
Ron chuckled, his hands behind his back.
More than ten years ago, Ulysses Klaue, guided by N'Jobu, infiltrated Wakanda to steal Vibranium and was caught and put on trial. To escape, he detonated a bomb at the border, causing heavy losses to the Wakandan Frontier Tribe, including the previous Master of the Frontier Tribe, W'Kabi's father.
"Your identity is not in the national records, but your proof of identity is not fake. You may enter Wakanda…"
After a long look, W'Kabi took a deep breath, averted his gaze, and refused Ron entry into Wakanda.
"But he cannot!"
There are too many secrets within Wakanda that cannot be known to outsiders; the vast Vibranium mine and advanced technology would be coveted by outsiders.
Ron swept a faint glance at him.
"I am from the Golden Leopard royal family; without him, I couldn't have killed Klaw. He must enter with me!"
Pulling out a ring and holding it high, Eric, carefully glancing at Ron, stepped forward and emphasized.
That was his father's relic, proving his identity, left by his grandfather, the Black Panther of the generation before last.
He was very familiar with Wakandan customs.
Anyone who challenged and defeated the King could become the new King.
T'Chaka was old, while he was young, and years of killing had honed his combat skills to perfection, but he had not returned until now.
"T'Chaka is a despicable scoundrel and may not adhere to the ancient ritual. I must rely on this one's powerful strength to take revenge and become King."
"As for after becoming King… the King of Wakanda will not submit to anyone!"
As he argued for Ron, a glint of ferocity and ambition flickered in his eyes, unnoticed.
"The royal ring is real, but you…
He helped you kill Klaw?
Good, he can enter."
The situation was strange. W'Kabi didn't understand why the previous Prince N'Jobu's ring was in someone else's hands. This matter would likely need the King's attention, so he agreed to Ron entering Wakanda.
Wakanda had always hidden its power, remaining isolated, and with its great strength, it feared no enemy.
The incident more than ten years ago was Wakanda's most severe loss of personnel in nearly a century, almost a national disgrace for Wakanda.
"He helped us eliminate Wakanda's enemy; he is worthy of becoming a friend of Wakanda."
"Worthy of becoming a friend of Wakanda?"
Ron smiled silently, saying nothing.
…
Inside Wakanda.
Unlike the disguised backward village outside.
Beneath a massive energy dome with optical camouflage technology, a hyper-modern city with extremely advanced technology spread across the land, with high-rise buildings densely packed, adjacent to a waterfall and a large lake.
Inside the upper floors of one of the large buildings, where the King handled important matters.
King T'Chaka, aged fifty or sixty, with an aged appearance and wearing glasses, sat on a black throne. To one side was his Queen, and Prince T'Challa, the future Black Panther, stood beside him.
The Masters of the remaining four tribes sat below.
After glancing at Ron twice, he didn't pay much attention, his expression complex and grave as he scrutinized Eric, more concerned that his younger brother's son had returned with a heart full of hatred.
A long silence.
Ron looked at T'Chaka on the throne. In the original plot, when Eric returned for revenge, T'Chaka was already dead, and T'Challa held the throne.
"If the future T'Chaka dies early, and Black Panther ceases to exist, it should provide me with a good amount of ability points. Getting Charles's ability would then no longer be an issue."
He surveyed the father and son, a cold indifference flashing in his eyes.
Ability points were only just under ninety thousand.
After arriving in this Universe, he returned once a day later to check, fearing too great a time flow difference, and then adjusted the appropriate space-time flow coordinates.
Charles's psychic ability was one hundred and twenty thousand, a difference of thirty thousand.
Affecting the destinies of Black Panther, Golden Leopard, T'Chaka, and Black Panther's sister Shuri combined should be enough.
"Strange, who is this person?…"
While everyone else focused on Eric, the future Black Panther, T'Challa, secretly paid attention to Ron, even more so than his suddenly appearing cousin Eric. For some reason, he felt a subtle sense of unease from Ron.
"Why is T'Chaka looking at me like that?
Not saying a word, are you repenting the crime of killing my father?"
Upon seeing T'Chaka, Eric said indignantly.
"T'Chaka killed N'Jobu? That's impossible?!"
Apart from the Master of the Frontier Tribe, the Masters of Wakanda's other three tribes—the Merchant Tribe, the River Tribe, and the Mountain Mining Tribe—were all three elders. They gasped in surprise when they heard this.
Royal kinsmen fighting among themselves—this shocked them.
Hearing this, T'Challa suddenly looked at his father, frowning in disbelief.
Bang!
"Silence."
Amidst the discussions, the women of the King's Royal Guard heavily slammed their Vibranium spears, and silence fell within the hall.
"My brother, your father N'Jobu, committed treason and attempted to attack his kinsmen. I had no choice but to kill him."
T'Chaka frowned, his presence commanding without anger, his voice heavy with the weathered authority of years, reverberating through the room.
"Enough, you and I both know the truth.
If you truly had no fault, why did you abandon me in New York, not daring to bring me back to Wakanda, fearing I would grow up to take revenge and seize your throne?"
Eric scoffed in rage.
"I now, as a member of the Golden Leopard royal family, challenge you to the ancient sacred ritual!"
"This…"
The Masters of the four tribes looked at T'Chaka.
"Good, I accept."
"Father…"
T'Challa exclaimed. His father was already old, while Eric was young and fierce, not someone easy to deal with.
"This is an ancient ritual passed down from our ancestors; no one can obstruct it."
T'Chaka, with a heavy expression, waved his hand.
"When a Wakandan challenges the King, the King must remove the Heart-Shaped Herb's power. His body is aged, why would he agree so readily?"
Watching T'Chaka agree so readily, Ron smiled. This old King was probably going to play some tricks.
Golden Leopard felt relieved and excited. He feared most that T'Chaka would use his father's treason as an excuse to forcefully refuse the ancient challenge ritual, saying he was a traitor's bloodline and exiling him.
Now he could personally kill his father's killer in the ancestral ritual.
…
People from the four tribes quickly gathered, summoned to the waterfall where the ancient ritual would be held.
After drinking the herb concocted by the priest, dark blue veins appeared on his neck. T'Chaka's Heart-Shaped Herb power was suppressed and removed. After a painful groan, he instantly aged considerably.
His bare upper body muscles even looked somewhat Relaxation.
On the other hand, Eric stared intently at T'Chaka, eager to fight, fiercely brandishing his long sword, calculating where to strike his enemy with the first blow.
"Huff huff… Come, child.
Your father once brought betrayal and shame to this country. You had no right to challenge me as a royal, but I, T'Chaka, still give you this opportunity!"
T'Challa, gasping weakly twice, his expression solemn and remorseful, held his long sword and assumed a fighting stance.
"Enough talk, pay for my father's life!"
With a roar, Golden Leopard, his eyes bloodshot, charged forward.
Clang!
Swords clashed. Young and strong, he immediately put T'Chaka on the defensive with one strike, then launched continuous attacks, forcing T'Chaka to retreat repeatedly, narrowly escaping danger.
The Queen and Black Panther watched nervously, their hearts aching.
The four tribes watched their weakened King being so humiliated, unable to bear it, a surge of resentment rising in their hearts.
"Though this conforms to the ancestral ritual, challenging an old King is by no means the act of a warrior!"
One old man angrily stomped his cane.
Only Frontier Tribe Chief W'Kabi was different. Eric and Ron had helped him avenge his father, and he had long been dissatisfied with T'Chaka's 'inaction'.
Everyone thought T'Chaka was in dire straits.
"A qualified King is thick-skinned and black-hearted."
Ron, arms crossed, evaluated with a playful gaze in his mind.
Under his X-ray vision, T'Chaka's skin disappeared, and every inch of his muscles, bulging and tensing, could not escape his eyes.
T'Chaka was not using his full strength; he was deliberately feigning weakness.
The priest who had previously removed the Heart-Shaped Herb's power had a subtly strange expression.
"Because he violated his sacred duty as a priest?"
Turning his gaze back, he discerned the secret within—T'Chaka's Heart-Shaped Herb power had not been completely removed; some remained.
"Killing his royal brother without trial and abandoning royal blood outside, T'Chaka is in the wrong on this matter. He needs a tragic play to salvage his image in the eyes of the people."
In fact, Ron had no derogatory meaning; a qualified King should be like this. Human hearts are complex; simple people cannot be rulers.
"Next, T'Chaka should pretend to struggle, then miraculously find an opportunity to turn the tables."
Indeed, not long after.
T'Chaka, with two new wounds on his body, was forced to the edge of the waterfall. Below him was a massive drop. He suddenly struck with his sword, a strike that seemed desperate and hurried.
But its trajectory was precisely aimed at Eric's chest.
Leaping up, Eric, who was about to bring his sword down, suddenly felt a bad premonition, a hint of terror appearing on his face.
Just as victory was about to reverse.
Suddenly, time seemed to pause.
The Water stopped flowing, and splashing Water solidified in mid-air.
Everyone's expressions were fixed on their faces.
As if transformed into a frozen painting.
Only Ron could move.
He slowly flew to the side of the two, like a god looking down, stroking his chin, watching this thrilling and tense battle scene with interest.
He extended a slender finger and lightly tapped T'Chaka's sword tip.
Returning to his original position, time seemed to resume its flow.
T'Chaka was astonished to find an inexplicable, irresistible force coming from his sword, deflecting it, causing him to miss.
Eric swung his sword down fiercely.
He widened his eyes in horror.
Blood splattered, followed by a piercing scream.
"No!…"