"And you—" M'Baku continued, his voice thundering across the arena,
"you would hand the throne to a cowardly prince who couldn't even protect the vibranium mines! How will you answer to the ancestors when they question you?!"
His words left everyone speechless—because he was right.
The loss of vibranium had indeed occurred under T'Challa's watch. When Ulysses Klaue stole that batch of vibranium, T'Challa had been the one responsible for it, and Klaue had ultimately escaped with it from his hands. That was precisely why T'Challa was so desperate to find Klaue.
"You may accept this," M'Baku declared slowly, emphasizing every word,
"but the Jabari Tribe—will not!"
He fixed a provocative stare on T'Challa.
"I, M'Baku, leader of the Jabari Tribe, formally challenge Prince T'Challa for the throne!"
As he raised both arms, the Jabari warriors who had come with him let out deafening roars, mimicking the cries of apes when they challenge and fight.
The High Priest raised his hands once more. Intense drums thundered through the air, the rhythm igniting blood and adrenaline alike. Music, after all, was the fastest way to stir emotion.
M'Baku donned his gorilla mask again, while the High Priest placed the panther-shaped mask—symbol of the Black Panther—onto T'Challa's face.
At the same time, warriors from both sides moved to the edge of the arena, forcing the crowd back and clearing space for the duel.
Both groups advanced with spears leveled, their tips aimed at T'Challa and M'Baku. This was tradition—to prevent either fighter from retreating. As the High Priest had said before, this duel allowed only two outcomes: surrender or death. Anyone who fled would be punished by both tribes.
T'Challa picked up his short spear and shield.
M'Baku hefted his iron staff.
The staff was no ordinary club—it was a long pole with a massive rounded head, capable of delivering devastating blows.
Standing between them, the High Priest slammed his spear into the ground, water splashing high into the air.
"The challenge for the throne—begins!"
The moment his voice fell, both men charged.
M'Baku swung his staff down with crushing force. T'Challa raised his shield to block.
A visible shockwave burst from the impact. The collision of vibranium, combined with its unique properties, rippled through the air itself. Water exploded upward from the surface.
Facing M'Baku's relentless assault, T'Challa relied on agility, weaving and dodging. In raw strength, he was clearly inferior—only speed and technique allowed him to hold his ground.
Each of M'Baku's strikes was heavy and overwhelming, amplified by the staff. A moment's lapse was all it took—T'Challa was knocked off his feet.
At once, both leaders' guards stepped forward again, spears tightening the boundary of the battlefield.
T'Challa sprang up, his short spear slashing out. M'Baku blocked with his staff, but T'Challa used the rebound force to leap forward, driving a powerful kick into M'Baku's chest.
Though weaker in strength, T'Challa had borrowed the momentum of the clash. The kick sent M'Baku crashing to the ground.
The combat circle shrank yet again as both sides' guards advanced another step.
"Hahaha! Now this is a fight!" M'Baku roared.
He rose and brought his staff down again and again like a war hammer, each blow heavier than the last. Even with his shield raised, T'Challa was eventually smashed to the ground. His spear and shield flew from his hands, and his mask was knocked free.
Seeing T'Challa unarmed, M'Baku discarded his staff as well.
The fight became bare-handed.
Without weapons, M'Baku's weakness emerged. His strength was overwhelming, but his movements lacked T'Challa's agility. Using swift footwork and sharp timing, T'Challa actually began to suppress him.
But then—one mistake.
M'Baku seized the opening, wrapping both arms around T'Challa's waist and lifting him clean off the ground.
His grip tightened mercilessly.
Then—
He slammed his head forward.
The headbutt struck T'Challa square in the face. Blood sprayed instantly from his nose.
"Ha! No strength! No claws! No special armor!" M'Baku bellowed.
"You're just a weak man! You are nothing! You are not fit to lead us!"
He smashed his head into T'Challa again and again, T'Challa's vision blurring as consciousness began to slip.
Through the haze, T'Challa glimpsed his mother Ramonda, and his sister Shuri.
A nameless fire reignited within him.
He had to protect his family.
He had to protect Wakanda.
"AAAHHH—!"
With a roar, T'Challa forced his arms free and drove his elbow viciously into M'Baku's face.
Crack!
The gorilla mask shattered.
T'Challa didn't stop. He continued hammering his elbow into M'Baku's face in a frenzy.
Blood poured down M'Baku's face, yet his grip only grew stronger.
With a surge of strength, M'Baku hoisted T'Challa high and slammed him into the ground. T'Challa suppressed the urge to vomit blood and immediately lunged back, ramming M'Baku to the ground with him.
They grappled in the shallow water, locked in the most primitive struggle of strength.
Using his agility, T'Challa managed to snake his legs around M'Baku's neck, cutting off his breathing.
Once again, the guards advanced, shrinking the battlefield to barely the space of two bodies. At the far edge loomed the deep abyss carved into the earth.
M'Baku struggled violently, relying on brute force—but T'Challa gave him no room. His legs tightened relentlessly around M'Baku's throat, depriving him of air.
"M'Baku!" T'Challa shouted.
"Yield now! Don't force me to kill you!"
He was utterly exhausted; sheer willpower was the only thing keeping his legs locked.
"Impossible!" M'Baku rasped.
"I would rather die than submit to you!"
By now, he too was spent. Though he had held the upper hand for much of the fight, T'Challa's agility had drained his stamina far more than expected.
T'Challa wrenched one of M'Baku's arms aside, pinning it, and tightened his legs even further. M'Baku's face turned a deep purple—clear signs of suffocation.
The guards stepped forward yet again. The spear tips were now less than a foot from the two men.
The duel had reached its end.
Only one outcome remained: M'Baku's surrender—or his death.
"M'Baku!" T'Challa cried.
"You have already fought for honor and for the spirits of your ancestors. Yield now! Think of your people—they still need you! If you die here, how will your tribe survive?!"
T'Challa truly did not wish to kill him.
In this battle, he had come to acknowledge M'Baku—and to respect him as a warrior.
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