Eric Killmonger allowed T'Challa to retain the strength of the Heart-Shaped Herb, choosing to face him at his peak, with the full power of the Black Panther.
The people of Wakanda were astonished by Killmonger's fearlessness and the confidence he carried into the duel.
Though Wakanda was a nation of unmatched technology, its ancient traditions remained deeply rooted. The Council of Elders still guided the kingdom, and the sacred waterfall challenge was still held before a new king could ascend the throne. Strength was not only respected but revered, and the Wakandans continued to honor the warrior who proved himself in combat.
If Killmonger could defeat the Black Panther in his prime—blessed by the Panther God with divine strength—then he would prove himself the greatest warrior in Wakanda. To many, it would mean that the Leopard God had chosen him as the new guardian, destined to lead Wakanda into a new era of power.
Yet others whispered that he was reckless. To challenge the Black Panther was to defy the will of the gods. Those who had admired his boldness began to doubt. The Black Panther's strength was no ordinary gift, and arrogance could only end in ruin.
As Zuli set aside the potion, T'Challa rose slowly from the pool, his eyes fixed on Killmonger.
If Killmonger wished to test the Black Panther's power, then T'Challa would not hesitate to teach him the cost of such pride.
Killmonger stripped off his royal robes, handing them to a servant who stepped back in silence. He strode into the pool, facing T'Challa. Both men now stood bare-chested, their physiques revealed in full.
T'Challa was strong, his body honed by years of training and the blessing of the Heart-Shaped Herb. But Killmonger's frame was even more imposing.
He stood over two meters tall, his muscles thick and defined, his arms like steel beams, his chest broad and unyielding, his legs like pillars of iron. Every line of his body radiated raw power, as though he were a beast from another age, a predator born for battle.
The crowd at the waterfall gasped at the sight. Killmonger's confidence no longer seemed like arrogance. With such a body, such strength, perhaps he truly could stand against the Black Panther.
Those who had dismissed him as overconfident now wavered, uncertain of the outcome.
Before the duel began, two priests stepped forward, carrying sacred vessels. They painted the warriors' bodies with ancient Wakandan totems, marking the combat as sanctioned by the Leopard God.
As the ritual was performed, Princess Shuri stood on the cliff beside Chen Mo. She turned suddenly, her sharp eyes fixed on him.
"I know who you are," she said quietly.
Chen Mo did not respond. His gaze remained on the pool below, unmoved.
"You are Commander Chen Mo," Shuri pressed. "Seventy years ago, you crashed into the ocean with Hydra's Valkyrie bomber. You were frozen in ice until a scientific team revived you."
Still, Chen Mo gave no reply.
"You were a major general in the U.S. Army," she continued, her voice rising. "A high-ranking officer of the Strategic Homeland Defense Attack and Logistics Agency. A commander of special forces."
At last, Chen Mo turned to her, a faint smile on his lips.
"Your mission is to protect humanity," Shuri said bitterly. "How can you stand with a murderer?"
Chen Mo's eyes met hers. "Evil," he said calmly, "is not always what it seems."
Below, the priests completed the ritual and stepped aside. The duel was ready to begin.
T'Challa gripped a vibranium shield in one hand and a short spear in the other. Killmonger held a heavy sword in one hand and a short spear in the other.
High Priest Zuli raised his spear high.
"Let the challenge begin!"
The two warriors charged. Water exploded around them as they collided with thunderous force.
Killmonger's sword came down in a brutal arc, but T'Challa raised his shield just in time. The clash rang out across the cliffs.
At first, Killmonger held back, testing his opponent. The two seemed evenly matched, their strikes fierce and unrelenting. The crowd watched in awe, realizing Killmonger's strength was no bluff.
But soon, Killmonger pressed harder. He had measured T'Challa's power and found it wanting. With a crushing blow, he knocked the spear from T'Challa's hand, sending it deep into the rock.
He thrust his short spear forward, forcing T'Challa back. The Black Panther blocked with his shield, but Killmonger's relentless strikes drove him toward the cliff's edge.
With a sudden move, Killmonger dropped his spear, seized T'Challa's shield, and wrenched it free. He hurled T'Challa backward into the pool.
T'Challa crashed into the water, his shield skidding away. He rose quickly, but Killmonger was already upon him.
Planting his sword in the ground, Killmonger struck with his fists. One blow sent T'Challa sprawling. Another cracked against his chest, the sound of bone echoing in the air.
Again and again, T'Challa fell. Again and again, he rose. But each time slower, weaker, his body battered and broken.
Though Killmonger held back from his full strength, the damage was devastating. Fractures spread through T'Challa's body, his breath ragged, his movements faltering.
At last, he collapsed to his knees in the pool, unable to rise. The Black Panther, guardian of Wakanda, could no longer resist.
The crowd fell silent. The duel was decided.