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Chapter 391 - Chapter 392: Allen Summons Former Teammate Orm

Chapter 392: Allen Summons Former Teammate Orm

"I hope you can help me."

David reached out to the Golden Leopard, Erik, hoping to leverage Wakanda's power.

"Help you with what?"

Seeing that Erik didn't reject him outright but instead asked a question, David felt hopeful.

"Erik, you've always known I wanted to personally take down Aquaman."

David first played the emotional card, deliberately invoking their shared past to spark a sense of empathy.

"You want me to help you kill Aquaman?"

Erik's face darkened, revealing hesitation.

To be honest, after gaining access to Wakanda's core technology, he became convinced that Atlantis's tech was far superior.

Vibranium-based tech was too limited. Without vibranium ore, Wakanda's entire tech tree would regress to the Stone Age.

Atlantis, on the other hand, was completely different. Just their ability to convert seawater into energy was enough to leapfrog human civilization by a thousand years.

Moreover, Atlantis had tens to hundreds of times the population of Wakanda. If war were to break out, Wakanda would be utterly crushed—easily and decisively.

"No, you misunderstood."

David quickly explained, "I've already obtained the artifact."

As he spoke, he raised the black trident in his hand.

"This is the ancient artifact you've been searching for all this time," Erik said, intrigued.

They had once shared their grand ambitions with each other, and the Dark Trident had come up in those conversations. But back then, Erik had treated it like a myth, not worth taking seriously—especially since he had no interest in Atlantis. After all, he couldn't breathe underwater, so what was the point in poking around?

"That's right."

David said confidently, "Now, I alone can topple Atlantis. I'm only worried about others interfering with my revenge."

"You mean T'Challa and the others?" Erik asked.

"Exactly. All I need is for you to deal with enemies outside the sea."

David let his imagination run wild and painted a vivid picture of the future: "Once I kill Aquaman, I'll take over Atlantis. Then, we form an alliance—you rule the land with Wakanda, and I rule the seas."

That statement stirred more than just Erik. The gathered pirates and Despair Warriors were visibly fired up.

They had always lived in the shadows. Conquering the world would not only bring them wealth and power, but potentially even a whole country each to rule.

When faced with absolute profit, people often forget the fear of death. Everyone was swept up in the fantasy.

"I'm in."

Erik agreed without hesitation.

With Wakanda and Atlantis allied, toppling the nations of the surface would be effortless.

After ending the call, Erik personally contacted the tribal leaders who supported him and began pressuring the queen to allow him to undergo the Heart-Shaped Herb ceremony.

Now fully recovered, Ramonda had no more excuses to delay. She had to follow tradition and prepare the potion for the new king.

And throughout the entire process, Ramonda dared not make any false moves.

In Wakanda, tradition was above all.

If Ramonda were to sabotage the ritual, not only would the tribal leaders turn on her, but the entire nation would brand her a criminal.

In that case, Erik would naturally take full control of the country.

He drank the purple liquid as Ramonda, Shuri, and several tribal elders watched from the sidelines.

The herb had already been tested and verified. If Erik's body failed to strengthen, he would lose the right to the throne.

It would mean the ancestors didn't approve—he would be unfit to rule Wakanda.

But everything went smoothly.

After a night of transformation, Erik awoke feeling revitalized and declared himself the new king.

The first thing he did upon waking was order, "Everyone, leave. I have something to discuss with the queen and the princess."

Understanding the situation, the tribal leaders tactfully exited the palace.

After all, Erik, the queen, and the princess were all part of the royal family. No reason to meddle in their domestic matters.

"What are you planning?" Ramonda asked warily.

"Don't you dare hurt my mother."

Shuri stepped in front of her, sonic gauntlets at the ready.

But how could two women stand against the newly empowered Erik?

"Auntie, don't be afraid. I'm not going to kill you."

Erik replied coolly, then casually picked up a burning match from the fireplace.

To the shock of the mother and daughter, he tossed it into the field where the Heart-Shaped Herb was grown.

"No!"

Ramonda screamed in disbelief, but she was powerless to stop the fire as it quickly engulfed the sacred plants.

The Heart-Shaped Herb was a cornerstone of the royal line—every new king had to undergo the ritual.

If the plants were all destroyed, there would be no more Black Panthers, and no way to keep the tribes in check.

After all, the herb was a gift from the Panther God Bast.

Erik was deeply satisfied by the pained expressions on their faces. There was an indescribable pleasure in mentally tormenting his enemies.

What a shame, though.

He instinctively glanced down at his lower body.

If it weren't for the side effects of the Super Soldier Serum, he would've made these two cry every night.

But knowing he'd never be able to have children, the Heart-Shaped Herb no longer had any value.

"Why the act?"

Erik sneered. "When your son died, you two didn't seem this upset."

"Oh… right!"

Erik suddenly feigned realization and said, "I heard someone say T'Challa's not dead."

"You—!"

Ramonda's eyes filled with terror. She realized Erik had discovered T'Challa's whereabouts.

"My brother will kill you," Shuri spat defiantly.

"Will he?"

Erik grinned cruelly. "I'll bring back his severed head, preserved in formaldehyde, and keep it on my nightstand."

"I'll kill you!"

"Don't!"

Overcome with rage, Shuri nearly launched an attack, but Ramonda stopped her just in time.

Killing a king was high treason—enough to warrant execution.

Ha ha ha…

Erik laughed heartily as he walked out of the palace.

Arkham Fortress.

The atmosphere was extremely awkward.

Orm and Namor sat face-to-face.

One was the former king of Atlantis, the other the former-former-former-former king.

Why four "former"s?

Because in chronological order, it was Orm's grandfather, Orm's mother, and then Orm himself—three generations of rulers.

"Enough, stop staring. The tension between your gazes is practically visible," Allen interrupted the awkward silence.

"Let's not bring up the past," Namor was the first to speak.

Back during his reign, the aristocracy had rejected him because of his mixed blood, forcing him and his followers to leave their homeland.

"I don't have much to say about my grandfather's generation."

Orm changed the subject with a smirk, "But today's Atlantis nobles are still the same stubborn old fossils."

It was clear that the same nobles who once opposed Namor still rejected the idea of a mixed-blood king. Some had even secretly approached Orm to back a coup.

But he had refused them all.

Because Orm's mother supported Aquaman, Arthur.

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