Killmonger's Revenge

Wakanda Royal Palace

T'Challa sat on his throne, his fingertips lightly tracing the Vibranium -carved armrests. The power of the Heart-Shaped Herb surged through his veins, amplifying his senses to an infinite degree—he could hear the panting of hyenas on the grasslands outside the palace, smell the mist from Warrior Falls a hundred miles away, and even sense the faint pulsation of the Vibranium veins deep beneath his feet.

Below the throne, the elders of Wakanda's five Horde sat in various places. W'Kabi of the Border Tribe crossed his arms; Nakia of the River Tribe tapped her fingertip on the dagger at her waist, gazing at T'Challa with affectionate eyes; the elder of the Mining Tribe rubbed his hands together, eager to fight. Standing beside T'Challa were Zuri and Shuri.

"Your Highness," the elder of the Merchant Tribe spoke first, "According to tradition, a new king must accept a challenge from the royal bloodline before ascending the throne. This is the will of the Panther God, and it is also a long-standing tradition of Wakanda."

T'Challa's gaze swept across the faces of each elder, and each of them looked at T'Challa with anticipation.

They wholeheartedly accepted the prince's succession, for a prince who had gained the approval of the Panther God was destined to be the new King of Wakanda.

T'Challa's gaze swept across the faces of each elder. He knew that only a king who followed tradition and had stood up to the challenge of royal authority would earn the respect and loyalty of every tribe.

"I understand," T'Challa's voice was steady and strong. "Tomorrow at dawn, I will be waiting for the challenger at Warrior Falls."

T'Challa finished speaking, all the guards in the hall began to bang their weapons on the ground, creating a unique war melody that stirred the blood.

Wakanda - Warrior Falls

At dawn, a light mist veils the sacred waterfall. The rising sun casts its golden rays upon the rushing water, creating a rainbow of colors. The banners of the five Horde flutter in the morning breeze as thousands of Wakanda gather on the cliff face, eagerly awaiting this sacred ceremony.

Warrior from the Border Tribe, clad in rhinoceros hide armor and wielding Vibranium weapons, stood in formation on the edge of a cliff; the people of the River Tribe, dressed in green battle robes, sang and danced on the mountainside; the elders of the Trading Tribe wore magnificent robes and gold ornaments symbolizing wealth on their chests; and everyone from the Mining Tribe wore red clothes and had solemn expressions.

Amidst everyone's anticipation, a fighter jet descended from the sky, hovering above the waterfall platform. T'Challa, sword and shield in hand, shirtless, his skin and face painted with the distinctive patterns of the Golden Tribe (the royal family of Wakanda), stepped down.

He walked onto the platform, and the people on the cliff began to sing and dance.

"Dedicated to T'Challa ~"

"Dedicated to T'Challa ~"

"Dedicated to T'Challa ~"

T'Challa looked around, crossed his arms, placed them on either side, and knelt down. His gesture made the cheers and songs of his people even louder.

On the central platform, Zuri saw T'Challa, holding a sacrificial spear, and solemnly announced, "According to tradition, a new king must accept a challenge before ascending the throne!" He held up a small bowl in both hands and showed it to the surroundings, "And our prince, the power of the Black Panther within him will be stripped away."

As he spoke, he walked up to T'Challa and fed T'Challa the liquid from the small bowl. After drinking the potion, T'Challa trembled and his face contorted as he desperately endured the pain of the Black Panther's power being stripped from his body.

Everyone clenched their fists, crossed them in front of their chests, and rhythmically shook their bodies. This was Wakanda tradition and a sign of respect for the Panther God.

His body was covered in purple veins, and his eyes were bloodshot. In no time, his body returned to normal. He slowly stood up and looked around again.

Zuri continued to announce to everyone, "The outcome of the ritual battle will be either one side surrenders or one side perishes!"

As he spoke, he looked at the leaders of the various Horde, "If Horde elects a warrior, the steps will be made, and the path to the throne will be opened equally for everyone."

Zuri's voice echoed amidst the roar of the waterfall, and the leaders of the five Horde took turns standing at the forefront of their respective Horde, proclaiming in the ancient Wakandan:

"River Tribe, abandon the challenge!" Nakia's father was the first to speak, and Nakia looked at T'Challa with determination and trust in her eyes.

"Merchant Tribe, abandon the challenge!" The elder of trade bowed, his Vibranium scepter gleaming in the sunlight. The warrior beside him, his face covered, also bowed.

"Mining Tribe, abandon the challenge!" The burly elder's voice boomed like a bell, and the warrior's fist pounded heavily on his chest.

"Border Tribe, abandon the challenge!" W'Kabi's father spoke gently. W'Kabi, dressed in a long robe and holding his cloak in front of him, bowed slightly.

Seeing that the people from all the Horde had given up the challenge, Zuri smiled slightly and asked loudly, "Are there any other warriors who wish to step forward and challenge us?"

Shuri weakly raised her hand, and everyone looked at her in surprise.

Result.

"This shapewear is so tight, can we finish quickly?"

Smack!

The people on the cliff collectively slapped their foreheads, utterly speechless at their little princess.

Just as Zuri was about to announce that T'Challa had won without a fight --

"I accept the challenge!"

A roar erupted from a cave at the edge of the cliff, its sound briefly drowning out the Warrior Falls. All eyes turned to the source of the sound, where a giant over two meters tall stepped out of the shadows.

M'Baku Barry.

The leader of the Jabari Tribe, covered in white paint and wearing a monkey skull mask, emerged from behind several burly men.

"The Jabari Tribe challenges the kingship!" M'Baku's voice was like rolling thunder, causing rocks to fall from the cliff.

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

T'Challa and M'Baku locked eyes. An invisible current seemed to surge between them, and even the mist from the waterfall seemed to freeze in that instant.

"Elder M'Baku," T'Challa's voice was eerily calm, "I thought the Jabari Tribe had long since ceased to recognize Wakanda's rule."

M'Baku grinned. "We're deep in the mountains! Watching from the sidelines! But we've had enough!"

He turned and slowly walked towards Shuri, pointing the wooden mallet at Shuri. "Wakanda's technological lifeline is actually in the hands of a little girl!"

The female Warrior of Dora Milaje immediately stood in front of Shuri, crossing their weapons to stop M'Baku's advance.

M'Baku sneered, "And she also despises our traditions."

"Now, you are going to hand over the throne to this so-called prince." M'Baku turned around, his face ashen.

"But he couldn't even protect his own father's life."

M'Baku's footsteps were heavy as drumbeats as he approached T'Challa, the two of them now only a step apart.

"We, the Jabari Tribe, will never accept this! I, M'Baku," his voice was menacing, his eyes beneath the mask gleaming with a wild light, "I will exercise my right to challenge this little leopard cub."

T'Challa's chest heaved violently, a mixture of anger and grief. He could feel thousands of eyes watching this scene from the cliff, hear his mother's tense breathing, and even smell the scent of cedar and blood on M'Baku's body.

"I accept your challenge." T'Challa suddenly calmed down.

M'Baku burst into laughter, tearing off his mask. "That's more like it! For the glory of Hanuman!"

The drums of war sounded once more at Warrior Falls the moment T'Challa declared he accepted the challenge.

T'Challa put on the Black Panther leather mask and raised his hand. "Dora Milaje! Prepare for battle!"

The female Warrior of Dora Milaje descended from the platform and, together with the Warrior of the Jabari Tribe, set up their spears, surrounding M'Baku and T'Challa.

The battle will take place within this gradually shrinking encirclement.

"Thump!"

Zuri's scepter slammed heavily into the ground, and the battle officially began!

M'Baku launched the first attack. Like a furious white ape, he swung his mallet in a sweeping motion. T'Challa deftly leaned back, the mallet grazing his nose.

"You dodged pretty fast, little leopard!" M'Baku grinned as he changed his attack, his wooden mallet suddenly veering downwards.

T'Challa didn't have time to completely dodge and could only raise his shield to take the blow. "Bang!" The mallet slammed into his shield, the enormous impact causing him to kneel on one knee, drawing gasps from the spectators on the cliff.

"Is that all you've got?" M'Baku seized the opportunity to raise his leg and deliver a knee strike straight to T'Challa's abdomen.

T'Challa grunted, using the momentum to flip backward and create distance. He felt warm liquid trickling from the corner of his mouth—blood. The Barry leader's strength far exceeded his expectations.

Before T'Challa could react, M'Baku hurled the mallet at T'Challa.

T'Challa raised his shield to block again, but to his surprise, the force of the mallet shattered his shield. T'Challa staggered, and T'Challa one-handed sword slipped from his grasp.

"You dare to be distracted during the fight?" M'Baku seized the opportunity to close in, his iron-like hands gripping T'Challa's throat, slamming him violently to the ground.

"Boom!"

T'Challa slammed his back onto the water platform, M'Baku straddled him, and his fists rained down.

"This punch is for your father!"

"This punch is for the tradition your sister scorned!"

"This punch--"

T'Challa suddenly seized an opening, wrapped his legs around M'Baku's neck, and with a beautiful scissor kick, flung him several meters away. The two rolled to their feet simultaneously, panting as they faced each other.

The sound of the waterfall seemed to disappear, and only the heavy breathing of the two Warrior remained in the whole world.

T'Challa wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and suddenly smiled. "You're right, my father did teach me to respect tradition." He slowly removed the tattered Black Panther mask. "But he also said that a true king must know how to innovate."

M'Baku frowned. "What do you mean?"

T'Challa suddenly changed tactics, employing a new move that incorporated modern fighting techniques. As M'Baku swung his fist again, T'Challa dodged at an uncanny angle, simultaneously delivering a precise chop to the nerve plexus of his opponent's elbow joint.

"Ah!" M'Baku's right arm went numb instantly.

T'Challa pressed his advantage, landing three consecutive heavy punches on the same spot under M'Baku's ribs. This was a weakness that Shuri had told him about in the Jabari Warriors —their reinforced muscles had a natural gap at the seventh rib.

M'Baku staggered backward, a look of pain appearing on his face for the first time. "You... how could you..."

"Knowledge is power, Elder." T'Challa slid in, elbowed the man in the chin, then grabbed M'Baku's dreadlocks and slammed him over his shoulder toward the edge of the platform.

"No!" cried the Warrior of the Jabari Tribe.

M'Baku was hanging precariously over the edge of the waterfall, clinging to a crevice in the rock with his left hand. The raging Riptide roared beneath him, and the abyss, hundreds of meters deep, was enough to crush anyone to pieces.

T'Challa walked slowly over, looking down at his former opponent. "Admit defeat, M'Baku. For Barry and the future of Wakanda."

M'Baku looked up at the young man, who was covered in wounds but still stood tall. The sunlight gilded T'Challa, and in that instant, he seemed to see a young T'Chaka.

"... I concede." M'Baku released his grip, allowing T'Challa to pull him back onto the platform.

A moment of silence followed, then deafening cheers erupted. The flags of the five Horde waved simultaneously, and the sounds of war drums, horns, and the roar of the waterfall blended into a symphony of victory.

Zuri solemnly Earth Flow and handed the Holy Grail, containing the Heart-Shaped Herb, to T'Challa: "In the name of the Panther God, I declare—"

"Etc!"

A cold voice suddenly pierced the cheers.

On the highest rock of the cliff, a figure draped in a purple robe appeared out of nowhere.

"Who?!" Queen Ramonda shouted, and all the tribal Warrior raised their weapons and aimed them at the newcomer.

The newcomer removed his hood; it was Eric Stevens. (This is his name in the movie, but the previous text has been corrected.)

"Who are you?" the queen demanded loudly.

Eric lifted a sack from beside him, dropped it onto the water platform, and then used a rope to rappel down the cliff.

Everyone was extremely wary of the sudden appearance of strangers, because Wakanda had not seen any outsiders for a long time.

Eric glanced at everyone who was looking at him warily and sneered, "Your prince hasn't even killed his enemies yet, and he's already eager to ascend the throne."

"And I have come to offer a great gift."

He untied the sack, and Ulysses Klaue's body rolled out.

Everyone present gasped in surprise.

T'Challa's pupils suddenly contracted.

Ulysses Klaue's body lay silently on the platform, the agony of his death still frozen on his contorted face.

"You..." T'Challa's voice trembled slightly. He looked up at Eric, his eyes filled with gratitude and deep confusion.

Queen Ramonda stepped forward, her gaze shifting between Klaue's corpse and Eric's. "Young man, you have brought justice to Wakanda. Tell us your name, and you will receive our highest honors."

Eric suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh tinged with unsettling madness, "Courtesy?" He pulled a ring threaded through a necklace from his waistband. "I don't need your courtesy. Remember my name! Eric Stevens! Son of N'Jobu! Me!"

He turned to T'Challa, his eyes filled with murderous intent. "I will challenge the throne as the son of a prince!"

The entire cliff fell into a deathly silence. Zuri, who was standing to the side, trembled as he remembered the child whose eyes were filled with hatred.

T'Challa finally understood the source of the hatred in Eric's eyes. He instinctively looked at his mother, Queen Ramonda, whose face had turned deathly pale.

"According to tradition," Eric's voice echoed throughout the waterfall, "The royal bloodline has the right to challenge the monarchy. I, son of N'Jobu, demand that this right be exercised!"

The people on the cliff began to stir.

"How can you prove your bloodline?!" Queen Ramonda asked loudly, truly not expecting such a sudden change to occur just as her son was about to inherit the throne.

Eric sneered at Zuri, tossing the ring to Zuri. "Old man, you should remember this."

After receiving the ring, Zuri examined it with trembling hands. He slowly raised his head, looked at everyone, and said weakly, "He... is indeed N'Jobu's son."

The people on the cliff shouted and began to whisper among themselves.

"Even if you are N'Jobu's son, so what? N'Jobu has long been exiled, Golden Tribe does not recognize his princely status," Ramonda retorted loudly.

"I admit it." A voice suddenly rang out.

Everyone looked over and W'Kabi from the Border Tribe.

W'Kabi's father looked at his son in disbelief and tried to dissuade him, but W'Kabi shook off his father's hand.

He declared to himself, "He killed the murderer of the king and made a great contribution to Wakanda; he deserves to return to his bloodline."

W'Kabi's words made everyone fall into deep thought.

"I support his challenge to the monarchy," the elder of the Trading Tribe also spoke up.

"I support it too." The elder of the Mining Tribe also supported W'Kabi's statement.

Only the Golden Tribe and the River Tribe remained silent.

At this moment, T'Challa up. "I didn't know there was anger in your eyes, but I'm willing to accept your challenge."

Queen Ramonda gripped the scepter tightly, her knuckles turning white. "T'Challa! You don't need to accept this—"

"Mother," T'Challa's voice was calm as he bent down to pick up the one-handed sword from the ground, "Father taught me that a true king never fears any challenge."

He turned to Eric, his gaze piercing, "Whatever happened to Uncle N'Jobu back then, today I will prove with my strength who the true protector of Wakanda is."

The wind on the cliff suddenly turned violent, and the mist from the waterfall formed a hazy veil between the two of them.

Eric abruptly ripped off his purple robe, revealing gruesome scars covering his entire body. Each scar resembled a twisted worm, densely covering his muscular frame. Gasps of astonishment echoed from the cliff face.

"See these?" Eric's fingers traced each scar. "I've faced countless life-or-death situations in Afghanistan and Iraq," his voice tinged with pride. "For every enemy I killed, I left a mark on my body as a memento."

Eric suddenly pulled a serrated one-handed knife from his boot. "This knife is stained with the blood of countless lives, and now..." He pointed the tip at T'Challa, "It's your turn."

Without warning, Eric pounced like a cheetah. His moves bore no resemblance to traditional Wakanda martial arts, but rather combined special forces killing techniques with the ruthlessness of street brawls. His first strike was aimed straight for T'Challa's throat!

"Clang!"

T'Challa hastily raised his Vibranium to parry, sparks flying. But Eric changed his move even faster, his left hand forming a claw as he slashed at his opponent's abdomen. T'Challa barely managed to turn to the side, but was still torn open with three bloody gashes.

"Too slow!" Eric spun around and delivered a whip kick, sending T'Challa staggering backward. "Is this the future king of Wakanda?"

The cheers from the cliffside abruptly ceased. Shuri covered his mouth, Nakia's hand rested on her dagger, and even M'Baku frowned—this outsider's fighting style was exceptionally fierce.

T'Challa spat out a mouthful of blood, then suddenly laughed, "You've had professional training." He adopted a modified Black Panther fighting stance, "But the battlefield isn't a training ground."

This time it was T'Challa's turn to attack. His swordplay suddenly incorporated the rhythm of Brazilian capoeira, the sword drawing a golden arc in the sunlight. Eric hastily parried, but was struck in the knee by a spinning kick.

"Snap!"

With a crisp cracking sound, Eric knelt on one knee. But instead, he grinned maliciously, suddenly drawing a chain from his waist and wrapping it around T'Challa's ankle. "Welcome to the real world!"

The instant T'Challa was pulled to the ground, Eric's serrated knife was already aimed at his eye! At the last second, T'Challa dodged to the side, the blade scraping against the rock with a piercing sound.

The two tumbled and fought on the edge of the cliff, their bodies soaked by the spray from the waterfall. Suddenly, Eric pulled a handful of sand from his waist and flung it fiercely into T'Challa's eyes!

"Despicable!" roared the crowd on the cliff.

T'Challa instinctively closed his eyes, and Eric seized the opportunity to deliver a powerful punch to his temple. T'Challa's vision went black, and he staggered backward, one foot already dangling over the edge of the waterfall.

"This..." Eric gasped for breath, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, "Was for my father!"

Despite his dizziness, T'Challa suddenly grabbed Eric's wrist and slammed him to the ground with an over-the-shoulder throw. But as Eric landed, his legs wrapped around T'Challa's neck, and the two rolled around in a heap again.

T'Challa's face gradually turned red from lack of oxygen, just as he was about to faint.

Zuri suddenly walked up to the two of them, "Eric!"

Eric looked up at Zuri. "Long time no see, Uncle James."

Zuri pleaded, his voice trembling, "Eric, please don't continue. What happened back then had nothing to do with T'Challa. You shouldn't repeat the mistakes that T'Chaka and N'Jobu made."

Eric released T'Challa's neck, stood up, and grinned as he approached Zuri: "No, I didn't repeat the same mistake."

He snatched the sacrificial spear from Zuri's hand and plunged it into Zuri's chest. "It's about respecting tradition! You've destroyed tradition!"

"No!!" T'Challa had just recovered from the lack of oxygen when he saw Zuri being killed, and he roared in grief and anger.

He lunged at Eric, Eric, anticipating his attack, dodged to the side and then struck T'Challa hard in the back with his sacrificial spear.

"Ha, only the weak are blinded by anger."

He raised the spear again and plunged it deep into T'Challa's abdomen.

Everyone was stunned by what they saw.

T'Challa coughed up blood, gripped the spear tightly, and stared at Eric with bloodshot eyes.

Eric hoisted T'Challa onto his shoulder, blood dripping from the spear onto the platform, reflecting a blinding crimson in the sunlight. T'Challa's fingers gripped Eric's armor weakly, a hoarse gasp escaping his throat.

He strode steadily toward the edge of the cliff, each step leaving a dark red footprint in T'Challa's blood. The wind on the cliff suddenly turned violent, blowing away the sweat on Eric's forehead and revealing his eyes burning with madness.

"T'Challa!" Queen Ramonda's heart-wrenching cry was drowned out by the wind.

T'Challa weakly raised his head, looking in the direction of his mother and sister, his lips moving as if he were saying something.

Eric stood at the very edge of the cliff, T'Challa's body swaying slightly on his shoulder. He looked down into the abyss, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "Give my regards to my father."

With a muffled thud, T'Challa's body plunged into the mist of the waterfall, quickly swallowed by the rushing water. A deathly silence fell over the cliff, broken only by the ceaseless roar of the falls.

Eric slowly turned around and plunged the blood-stained sacrificial spear heavily into the ground. His gaze swept over every shocked face, finally settling on Queen Ramonda's deathly pale face.

"Now," his voice was as cold as ice, "I am your king."