Chapter 139 Exposing Identity

Wakanda, at the southeastern edge of the city of the future.

A vast river was severed here, its cliffs jagged like countless interlocking canine teeth, forming a natural staircase of rocks. Water cascaded down in a waterfall, mist rising in the air.

On the upper part of the cliff, where the rock drop was not yet too steep, the native royal families from various tribes gathered, each standing in their own groups, descending in tiers down to a wide flat ledge projecting from the middle of the cliff.

This ledge, about the size of a basketball court, served as the battleground for the royal challenge ceremony. Kings’ guardians wielding vibranium spears and ritual elders dressed in strange attire positioned themselves at the edges of the ledge.

In the center of the ledge stood a young man, bare-chested and dark-skinned, muscles toned and strong. He held a vibranium shield and sword, his eyes gleaming with a faint, wise light. Though young, he bore the dignity of a king, standing tall and proud at the cliff’s edge.

Only the royal bloodlines of Wakanda’s great tribes were permitted to stand on the waterfall cliffs; the common people crowded outside the cliff’s boundaries.

The chief ritual elder, holding a vibranium spear staff, stepped onto the water-swept ledge and called out loudly, “I, Ba’ku, hereby introduce Prince T’Chaka!”

Prince T’Chaka solemnly raised his shield and sword, then knelt on one knee on the water-washed ledge, prompting a fierce cheer from the assembled tribal royals and citizens.

“In this ceremonial combat, only surrender or death signifies withdrawal. If any warrior of the tribal royal blood wishes to challenge Prince T’Chaka for the noble and powerful title of the Black Panther...” The elder cleared his throat and spread his hands, “I shall point the way to the throne for him!”

At that moment, Kyle, pushing through the crowd in search of Howard, reached the cliff’s edge by the waterfall and caught sight of the beginning of the royal challenge ceremony not far below.

As the chief elder’s question echoed, Prince T’Chaka’s gaze remained stern and focused ahead. One by one, representatives from the tribes began to respond.

“The Merchant Tribe does not challenge the throne!”

“The Mountain Mining Tribe does not challenge the throne!”

“The River Tribe does not challenge the throne!”

...

Outside the cliff, Kyle shrugged with disinterest upon witnessing the scene below.

Though this was an indigenous custom, essentially a procedural formality to show unanimous agreement among the great tribes’ royal families, thus legitimizing the prince’s inheritance of the throne, to him, it revealed another side of Wakanda: a society advanced in hardware but culturally backward and excessively savage in its customs.

This futuristic city, more developed and advanced than anywhere else in the world, still upheld a throne challenge ceremony akin to a gladiatorial contest where might makes right—it was a vivid testament to the persistence of barbaric traditions.

“Better find Howard quickly,” Kyle muttered, about to leave, when the chief ritual elder raised his voice again, directing a question to the last tribe.

“Is there anyone among the royal bloodlines who wishes to challenge Prince T’Chaka for the throne?”

Finally, from a cave on the cliff, the representative of the Jabari Tribe appeared at the entrance, speaking in a measured tone, “The Jabari Tribe today...”

“Don’t come any closer!”

Suddenly, a startled shout rang out from inside the cave, and a shorter figure from behind the Jabari representative hurriedly rushed out.

Splashing through the water, the small Jabari tribesman stepped onto the challenge ledge, instantly silencing the festive atmosphere. The only sound was the roar of the waterfall.

Across the cliff and waterfall area, countless native faces tightened with tension, jaws dropped in disbelief as their gazes fixed sharply on the Jabari tribesman.

There was truly someone audacious enough to challenge for the throne!

Whispers of doubt and surprise spread among the tribal royals, even the Jabari representative’s lips twitched nervously. Who was this tribesman?

It was well known that T’Chaka, as a warrior, was resolute, powerful, and decisive; as a prince, compassionate, wise, and responsible.

No one would rashly challenge him at such a solemn ceremony unless they seriously questioned his right to rule.

In fact, at this moment, besides the stunned local residents, two others were equally shocked.

One was the Jabari tribesman standing on the ledge, looking around confused, unsure whether to proceed or retreat amid the many strange and curious eyes upon him.

The other was Kyle, standing at the cliff’s edge, who felt a sudden headache upon recognizing the familiar figure emerging from the cave and stepping onto the challenge ledge.

Below the waterfall, atop the ledge.

“Brave warrior, are you certain you wish to challenge for the throne?” the chief ritual elder asked gravely.

“I...”

Before the Jabari tribesman could answer, T’Chaka’s eyes sparkled as he calmly threw his vibranium sword toward him. “I accept your challenge!”

The Jabari tribesman instinctively reached out to catch the sword, but though vibranium was light, it contained traces of steel alloy; combined with the force of T’Chaka’s throw, the tribesman couldn’t bear it, clutching the sword to his chest and stumbling back several steps before falling into the water.

T’Chaka: “...”

The assembled tribespeople exchanged puzzled glances. Since when had the Jabari hidden deep in the mountains become so weak?

But then, something even more astonishing occurred.

The Jabari tribesman, submerged in water, stood up holding the vibranium sword again. The dust that masked his upper body washed away, revealing pale, fair skin beneath.

“That man is not one of our Jabari!” the Jabari royal representative glared fiercely, shouting, “Who exactly are you?!”

“I told you, you’ve mistaken me...” The tribesman sighed helplessly, hastily removing his animal-shaped mask to reveal a refined Western gentleman’s face, his small mustache trembling as he said, “Sorry, I took a wrong turn.”

“An outsider!”

A roar of shock erupted from the surrounding tribal royals and native citizens beyond the cliff. Such a solemn throne challenge ceremony had been infiltrated by an outsider?!

“Damn him, he’s desecrated the sacred ritual! Kill him!”

Amid a chorus of angry cries, the first to act were the female royal guards at the ledge’s edge. They struck the cliff walls with the ends of their vibranium spears, producing a crisp yet heavy, oppressive sound.

“Outsiders who set foot in the royal ceremony grounds shall be executed immediately!”

Among them, the female captain clad in crimson vibranium battle armor raised her spear and coldly hurled it with full force toward Howard.

“Wait...” T’Chaka called out to stop her, but it was too late. Not having yet consumed the heart-shaped herb to attain the Black Panther’s extraordinary physique, he could only watch helplessly as the spear blurred through the air, hurtling at twice the speed of sound straight toward Howard’s chest.

At a hundred meters, a car would be pierced and pinned to concrete by the captain’s spear—let alone the mere ten meters distance here!

Just then, a dark figure streaked across the middle of the waterfall, diving at incredible speed onto the water-covered ledge, racing toward Howard, matching the spear’s velocity!