Erik raised his short sword high, preparing to end T'Challa's life with a single strike.
Clang—!
Suddenly, the High Priest intervened, his spear blocking Erik's blade mid-swing.
"Erik, stop!"
the High Priest shouted angrily.
"It was I who caused your father's death—not him! If someone must die, then kill me!"
Erik immediately turned toward the High Priest, fury burning in his eyes, almost tangible.
"Zuri! What are you doing?!"
Old King T'Chaka stepped forward from the stands, shocked that the High Priest had interfered in Wakanda's sacred ritual.
As a former king, T'Chaka understood the consequences of such an act all too well. He was not only a father, but also Wakanda's king. The sanctity of the ritual was absolute—no one was permitted to interfere. The outcome could only be surrender or death.
Zuri looked at T'Chaka and said firmly,
"Your Majesty, I must intervene. T'Challa is innocent. I cannot watch him die before my eyes. Everything that happened back then was caused by my own hands, and so the price should be paid by me."
"You'll both die!"
Erik suddenly erupted into motion, driving his spear straight through Zuri's chest. Blood sprayed across Erik's body.
"Zuri! No!!"
T'Chaka roared and leapt down from the stands, rushing to catch Zuri as his body collapsed.
T'Challa crawled over as well, clutching Zuri's hand tightly.
"Your Majesty… I have never regretted my choice… I owed Prince N'Jobu a life… today… today I return it…"
Zuri's eyes gradually lost focus, yet a faint smile remained on his face. In his life, he had wronged no one—except Erik. It was he who had taken Erik's father away. Now, with his life, the debt was paid.
"Zuri… Zuri!!"
T'Chaka was overcome with grief, tears soaking the High Priest's hand in his grasp.
"Erik!!"
T'Challa roared in rage, grabbing a sword from the ground and swinging it at Erik—but he was already exhausted. He was no match.
Erik kicked him aside effortlessly and raised his arms.
"This is your king? Weak. Cowardly. Completely helpless!"
He slammed his fist into T'Challa's abdominal wound. Blood burst forth once again, and T'Challa finally collapsed to his knees in the water.
With a powerful heave, Erik lifted T'Challa up.
"The Black Panther was supposed to lead you into the world—but look at him now. He's nothing more than a pile of filth!"
In the stands, Okoye and Nakia clenched their weapons so tightly their hands trembled. They were barely holding on to their last shred of restraint. As warriors, they were forbidden to intervene—any interference would earn them the same fate as the High Priest.
Tears shimmered in their eyes. Their entire bodies shook, yet they could only watch helplessly.
The tribal elders were no different. Even though many of them did not acknowledge Erik as the true son of a prince, they were bound by tradition. The ritual was sacred, and no one could interfere.
Erik carried T'Challa to the edge of the cliff, clearly intending to throw him down.
"No! Stop!!"
Queen Ramonda rushed forward in desperation. At that moment, she was no queen—only a mother.
Erik hurled T'Challa off the cliff.
Ramonda collapsed to the ground in despair.
Whoosh—!
A flash of red streaked through the air. A massive crimson cloak swept across Erik's vision.
Lucas had moved.
He plunged down the cliff at blinding speed, summoning Onion in midair. Lucas caught T'Challa's unconscious body steadily, placed him onto Onion's back, and slowly rose into the air above the dueling grounds.
Everyone's attention was drawn to the man in the red cloak, its vast folds seeming to shroud the entire cliffside.
When they saw T'Challa alive on Onion's back, a collective breath of relief swept through the crowd. Ramonda and T'Chaka looked at Lucas with overwhelming gratitude.
"Who are you? Why did you interfere in the ritual?!"
Erik shouted up at Lucas.
"The outcome is already decided,"
Lucas replied calmly.
"I'm just saving a life."
He looked down at Erik without expression. Lucas made no judgment about Erik's suffering—he had not lived through it. Erik's vengeance was his own business. But Lucas saving someone was his choice, and no one had the right to stop him.
Erik glared at him furiously.
"Do you want to die too?!"
Lucas smiled faintly. The Ultimate Weapon slowly materialized in his hand. Instantly, a wave of scorching heat surged outward, steam rising as the surrounding water began to evaporate. Distortions rippled through the air around him.
"I can make that happen."
He then glanced at T'Chaka. As things stood, Erik—still an ordinary man—would fall to a single strike.
But T'Chaka stepped forward.
"This is Wakanda's affair,"
he said solemnly.
"I ask that you do not interfere further. We will handle it ourselves."
Lucas remained silent. At that moment, Tony's voice came through the communicator—he had secured both the Heart-Shaped Herb and the Black Panther necklace.
"Erik,"
Lucas said coldly, looking down at him,
"once you've taken the Heart-Shaped Herb, we can fight properly. As you are now, you simply don't interest me."
Lucas had no intention of stopping Erik's revenge against Wakanda's royal family. But if Erik ever dared involve Tony or himself, Lucas would show no mercy.
With T'Challa still unconscious, Lucas flew toward Shuri's research center, leaving the rest behind.
An elder stepped forward, holding the ceremonial necklace made of beast fangs—the symbol of victory—and personally placed it around Erik's neck.
From that moment on, Erik was the new king of Wakanda.
Though resentment filled many hearts, tradition was absolute. Wakanda's laws had to be obeyed.
Nakia immediately left, desperate to ensure T'Challa's safety. Okoye, however, as the captain of the Dora Milaje, was bound to her post. She clenched her teeth and remained.
As the necklace settled against Erik's chest, everyone bowed in unison, acknowledging him as king.
"Uncle,"
Erik said as he approached T'Chaka and Ramonda,
"now I am the king of Wakanda."
He looked at T'Chaka with open provocation.
"I will tell you everything,"
T'Chaka replied, his expression heavy with regret.
"What we owe N'Jobu… it is time to repay it."
---
T'Challa lay inside a medical pod, unconscious.
Shuri stood frozen beside him. At her feet were the Black Panther necklace and several Heart-Shaped Herb fruits.
"We can't stay here,"
Shuri said quietly to Lucas and Tony.
"Erik won't let my brother live."
"Do you have anywhere safe to go?"
Tony asked.
Shuri shook her head, despair clouding her eyes. Once Erik was king, nowhere in Wakanda would be safe for T'Challa.
…No.
Suddenly, a place came to her mind.
A land that belonged to Wakanda—
yet one no outsider could ever enter.
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