Chapter Ninety-Eight: The Scheme Succeeds

Wakanda Duelist's Cliff

T’Challa’s wounds had completely healed. He stood, shield and blade in hand, wearing the Black Panther mask. Erik gazed at T’Challa, his heart swelling with hatred.

“My whole life has been preparing for this moment. I trained hard and killed countless people just to come here. I fought in America, Afghanistan, Iraq! I took lives—the lives of brothers and sisters from this very land!” As Erik spoke, he removed his shirt, revealing a torso covered in scars—each one a life taken.

“Killing so many, all for this: to kill you!” Erik pointed his blade at T’Challa, voice harsh and resolute.

Everyone watched the two in the pool—T’Challa and Erik. They knew the ritual was about to begin. They prayed silently for T’Challa, hoping for his victory.

“The challenge begins now!” Elder Zuri announced.

Erik seized his twin blades and clashed with T’Challa. The two attacked with ferocity, holding nothing back. Erik was agile, his blades a whirlwind, while T’Challa wielded his shield to deflect Erik’s onslaught. For a time, they were evenly matched.

T’Challa fought back with vigor, hacking at Erik with his right-hand blade. Erik parried with both his weapons, the two men locked in a test of strength.

Erik struck at T’Challa, who dodged, then T’Challa counterattacked, only for Erik to block. They traded blow for blow, neither giving an inch.

Spotting an opening, T’Challa struck Erik’s leg, knocking him to the ground. “Surrender!” T’Challa ordered, pointing his blade at Erik.

Erik climbed up, leaping high and slashing down with both blades. T’Challa blocked with his shield and sliced Erik’s face with his own blade.

This only made Erik more savage, his blows coming faster and harder. T’Challa could do nothing but defend with his shield. Erik seized the moment and kicked T’Challa to the ground.

As Erik moved in to finish him, T’Challa rose and the battle resumed. Erik found his moment, slashing open T’Challa’s thigh. Forced to one knee, T’Challa endured a barrage as Erik hammered at his shield with both blades.

“Finish him, T’Challa!” Princess Shuri shouted from the sidelines.

T’Challa tried to retaliate, but Erik seized the chance and slashed T’Challa’s side, then again, cutting into T’Challa’s right arm.

T’Challa’s shield and blade fell from his hands. Erik drove his blade into T’Challa’s abdomen.

A collective gasp rose from the stands. The Queen and Princess Shuri could not bear to watch. Nakia, T’Challa’s former lover, wept openly. Okoye, captain of the royal guard, gritted her teeth, unable to speak.

T’Challa clutched the blade in his belly. Erik yanked it free and slashed again, only for T’Challa to punch the weapon from his hand.

Erik punched T’Challa in the head, sending him to the ground. T’Challa struggled up, only to be knocked down again.

“This is for my father!” Erik shouted, picking up his blade to behead T’Challa.

But Elder Zuri blocked the strike with his spear, knocking the blade from Erik’s hand.

“Zuri, no!” T’Challa, barely conscious, pleaded.

“I was the one responsible for your father’s death! Not him. Kill me instead!” Elder Zuri faced Erik.

“You both have to die, Uncle James!” Erik seized Zuri’s spear and drove it through his body.

“No!” T’Challa roared.

“No! Don’t!” The Queen and all the Wakandans in the stands wept and cried out.

T’Challa crawled to Elder Zuri, sobbing. He picked up a blade, trying to strike Erik, but had no strength left.

“Is this the king you chose?” Erik spat, punching T’Challa in the stomach and kicking his head.

“The Black Panther was supposed to lead you to the future! Him? He can’t even protect you!” Erik yelled at the crowd.

“Come on, brother!” Shuri cried, clinging to the Queen, who wept silently.

“Is there nothing we can do?” a royal guard asked Okoye. Eyes red, teeth clenched, Okoye said nothing. This was a sacred ritual—she could not intervene.

The tribal elders sat in silence, powerless to change the outcome, forced to watch T’Challa’s defeat.

T’Challa struggled to stand, but had no strength. Erik hoisted him onto his shoulders and carried him to the edge of the waterfall cliff.

“No! No!” The Queen and Shuri wailed, Nakia watching in anguish.

Erik hurled T’Challa from the towering precipice. He plunged into the turbulent river far below.

“No!” the Queen screamed, having lost her son. Shuri wept quietly in her arms.

“I am your king now!” Erik turned to address all Wakandans.

Nakia seized the Queen, urging her and Shuri to flee—they feared Erik might target the Queen next.

The priestess, choking back her grief, took out the Black Panther tooth necklace and fastened it around Erik’s neck. All the Wakandans bowed to him—he had become the new king of Wakanda, the Black Panther.

No one noticed the figure in a black cloak on the cliff’s edge, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

...

Led by the priestess, Erik entered a mysterious mountain cavern where the heart-shaped herb was cultivated. Here, he would drink the potion and receive the power of the Black Panther.

Erik lay in the sand pit at the altar’s center. The priestess fed him the violet heart-shaped herb elixir and buried him in the sand.

Suddenly, Erik was transported to a dream world—the home where he had lived with his father as a child. He saw his father, dressed in white, reminding him to return to Wakanda one day.

Erik awoke and looked at the heart-shaped herbs growing around them. He asked the priestess, “Are all the heart-shaped herbs here?”

“Yes. We prepare the potion whenever a new king ascends,” she replied.

“The next king? Burn them all!” Erik ordered with a cold smile.

“Your Majesty! We can’t—this is our tradition!” the priestess protested.

Erik seized her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. “Do as I say! Burn them all!”

The priests had no choice but to set the heart-shaped herbs ablaze. Hidden nearby, Nakia witnessed everything. She heard Erik’s order, quickly plucked one herb, concealed it in her bodice, and slipped away.

Erik watched the flames with satisfaction. At that moment, Ultron—cloaked in black—approached, laughing wickedly.

“Hahaha! Wakanda is now in our grasp! As long as you give me enough vibranium to build my army of vibranium robots, I’ll make the world kneel at our feet!”

Erik glanced at Ultron, replying with a sly grin, “As you wish.”

...

If you enjoy "King of Atlantis in Marvel," please add it to your favorites: () King of Atlantis in Marvel.