W'Kabi had laid the groundwork long before today. So when he raised his arm and shouted, the whole arena of the Royal Challenge boiled over—most of the voices swung to his side.
"I, W'Kabi, Minister of Defense of Wakanda, have served this nation with tireless devotion since the late king's reign, striving solely for Wakanda's strength. Yet some people would bury our country! Do we allow that?!"
He strode onto a tall rock and thundered.
"We do not!!"
Below, the fighters he'd brought answered in unison.
What a joke—if W'Kabi became king, every one of them was promised meteoric promotion. Even a common foot soldier could become a squad captain with excellent benefits. Why be a grunt when you could back W'Kabi?
Plenty shared that thought.
In moments, his momentum was overwhelming; the chorus for him shook the cliffs.
"My son!"
The Queen Mother's face tightened with worry. Okoye and the Dora Milaje ringed T'Challa, shields up, ready for civil war to explode.
This kind of conflict wasn't unheard of—especially when an old king had died and a new one hadn't yet cemented authority. Veterans drunk on past glory would seize the chance to grab power—even the throne.
T'Challa understood the danger. Thanks to Saitama, he now possessed unexpected strength, but the crisis before him was internal. As king, he had no right to meet his own people with fists; he needed grounds that were both reasonable and defensible.
But a fact could not be denied: he had killed Erik with a poisoned dagger. Even if the blade had been Erik's, it shattered a Challenge Day tradition—an ignorant tradition, perhaps, but one deeply rooted.
"W'Kabi! W'Kabi!! W'Kabi!!"
"King! King! King!!"
"W'Kabi! W'Kabi!! W'Kabi!!"
"King! King! King!!"
"W'Kabi! King!!"
The plants W'Kabi had seeded in the crowd shouted on cue, and his name rose in waves. After all, he was the head of a real power bloc in Wakanda; his network of loyalists outstripped even T'Challa's.
"What now, T'Challa? Have you grown so bold you'd kill your own uncle? You cannot be Wakanda's king—you broke tradition!"
W'Kabi marched straight up, staring T'Challa down without flinching.
"W'Kabi! You dare provoke the king!"
Okoye's eyes were cold slits. Her energy spear leveled at W'Kabi, but she held her ground. He was a national elder; killing him would spark internal chaos—carnage that would cost countless citizen lives. Neither she nor T'Challa would accept that outcome.
Just then—
A roar of engines rolled from the sky.
Faces tilted upward—and blanched.
Formations of Wakandan warships cut across the clouds, their black gun muzzles trained on the royal cliffs. Defense Ministry insignias gleamed on the hulls. They were Wakanda's own forces—but after too long under W'Kabi's command, nearly every officer aboard was his diehard. Given a choice between the king's order and the minister's voice, they favored the latter.
"This is treason, W'Kabi!!" the Queen Mother shouted, fury breaking through.
"Treason? Heh… Your Majesty, Wakanda knows no treason today. I am merely stepping forward to save a nation on the brink of war—my duty, nothing more."
W'Kabi's smile was thin and cold. His gaze slid to T'Challa.
"Yield the throne, T'Challa."
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For 20+ Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!] [[email protected]/Draumel]
[Thank You For Your Support!]