Without exception, the spectators all sucked in sharp breaths at the brutality of the duel.
Princess Shuri let out a cheer, though it was hardly noticeable amid the noise of the arena.
Erik Killmonger, who had taken a heavy blow to the head, did not stop fighting or even stagger back. He had endured grenades and Concussion Grenades exploding right in front of him many times before; not even the stabbing agony flashing through his mind could stop him from fighting. He shut his eyes, obscured by blood streaming down from his forehead, and instinctively kicked T'Challa in the inside of the knee. Then, with his blood-soaked arm, he swung his dripping short spear and drove it toward T'Challa's throat as though thrusting a dagger.
T'Challa leaned back to evade the deadly strike, then rolled through the stream and got back to his feet before Erik Killmonger could launch another attack. The running water washed away the blood coating the area around his wounds, but the violent movement made the torn flesh seep blood again. Those seated closest could even see the flesh beneath T'Challa's wounds.
The wound left by the short spear piercing flesh was large. More severely injured, Erik Killmonger lunged while T'Challa was still unsteady on his feet, swaying. He kept the other short spear hidden behind his back in a reverse grip, ready to stab at the first opportunity. T'Challa brought his shield back in time to defend himself, then knocked the short spear upward. But Erik Killmonger lowered the blade and dragged it along the edge of the shield, cutting a huge gash across T'Challa's shoulder and the hand holding his weapon. At the same time, the weapon in his injured arm thrust upward toward T'Challa's chest and abdomen. Though T'Challa knocked it aside with