Chapter 46: The Second is Chosen…..

A full on thunderstorm had overtaken the previously clear blue skies in unison with the rising tide of battle.

Puddles of blood and rainwater filled the craters smashed into the floors of the pit. Every now and then the puddles would freeze over or begin to bubble like cooked stews.

Brontë was definitely present. And not alone, surprisingly.

"ARRRGG!!" The Marube tribesman, Gentle, jumped across the pit roaring as he slammed his massive fists to the floor where Bronte once stood.

Brontë backflipped out of the way with a gust of wind, feeling the shards of rock bounce and slip off the turbulent air focused around him.

When he landed, his back collided with another, reeking of blood and herbs.

"Watch where you're going, wolf." Azari snarled as he sent a blast of lightning at a warrior covered in blue body paint across the pit. The lightning bit into his weapon, superheating it until he was forced to drop it.

"Talking real tough for someone who just got bitch slapped." Bronte replied.

Azari said something else but Bronte was focused elsewhere.

Gentle ripped his massive fists out of the earth as he faced Bronte. His muscles bubbled to even larger proportions. It reminded him of Sabertooth's grotesquely developed muscles…. Only worse. He had grown to over seven feet and looked as wide as a pickup truck. The Vibranium tattoos grafted into his skin strained. He could hear them stretching and absorbing a million impacts like shields.

"COme HeRe!" Gentle charged.

Brontë ran at him and slid under his swooping arm. Tosin appeared behind him, grinning as he sent his fist at Bronte's face.

Brontë blocked it with his claws, causing an impossibly loud clang of metal to rattle through the stadium and stun his enhanced senses.

Tosin took advantage and sent a hook across his jaw so hard his cheek ripped open, revealing his sharpened metal teeth.

Brontë jumped before Gentle could turn around and grab him. As he hovered in the air a bolt of lightning struck him and fired out of his claws, straight into Gentle's head.

He fell to the ground as the stunned giant began to glow like the sun from all the kinetic energy his Vibranium tattoos absorbed.

Brontë didn't exactly expect that to work.

He hit the ground silently just in time to re-engage with Tosin.

The man's anger was plain on his face as he hardened the liquid Vibranium coating his skin and unloaded a one two combo on Bronte.

Brontë bobbed and weaved the strikes, cutting into his unbreakable skin to no avail before catching his arm and throwing him into Gentle just as his Vibranium markings exploded.

The whole stadium shook and everyone inside hit the wall once again. There was silence after the blast once again.

Brontë woke up to his blood clouding his vision as he could feel his wounds and breaks mending themselves back together.

To his left and right bodies were everywhere. No sign of recovering anytime soon this time around. All except for Azari who hid behind a boulder.

"YOu!"

Gentle landed in front of him and grabbed him by the leg, throwing him out in front of all the stunned spectators.

Brontë hit the ground hard and rolled. He heard his mother scream or he was hallucinating. Another boom. Gentle landed and kicked him into the rock Azari was previously slapped into. That felt poetic.

He tried to get up as his ribs realigned only for Gentle's giant hand to grab around his throat. He could only manage fitting his thumb and finger in a single bone crushing loop.

There was almost no intelligence in his wild glowing eyes. But his power was insane. He could feel the muscles even in his fingers and palms growing. Doubling. Tripling. It seemed infinite as he stared Bronte down.

He wondered if this it what the Wolverine felt when he fought Hulk.

Both like and unlike Hulk though….

There was no intelligence…..relatively. But little malice as well. Gentle's name suddenly made sense.

Sounds behind him grew as Azari suddenly landed on Gentle's shoulders and placed his hand on the monstrous giants temple and sent a bolt of electricity through his cranium.

Gentle grunted and shook him off as if he were a gnat.

The crowd began to lean in, feeling the battle come to a close.

Brontë waited, in seconds he was fully repaired. And Gentle was still hesitating.

Casually, he inhaled. And the giant began to lose his breath.

Slowly, his grip loosened. His muscles shrank, and he fell to his knee as the man he once was, grasping for air.

Brontë stood up and looked to the sky, exhaling a rushing wave of turbulent winds. So loud and explosive it sounded like a train….. or howls.

"I'm a killer….. but not for no reason. We're done here." Bronte held a hand out and brought Gentle to his feet.

"W-what happened?" Gentle questioned.

"A whole lot of BS…" Bronte growled.

Azari cursed and kicked the sands as his glowing white hair fizzled and popped with electrical sparks. Bronte's did the same.

The Elders were appalled. Even if he couldn't see it on everyone's faces, he could smell it.

All except a masked man in the nosebleeds. He remembered him from the Marube Tribe jungles. He must've been their Elder. Brontë could feel his eyes smiling from beneath the mask.

The Elderly man wearing blue robes seated beside Bronte's father raised his hand. The others followed. And T'Challa stood with his Queen.

"Due to outside intervention and illegal tactics, Azari T'Challa, and Brontë Connors are not allowed Victory of The Ceremony of The Second. Which leaves, Nezhno Abidemi of the Marube Tribe, as our last standing man in The Ceremony of the Second... and our newest Black Panther!"

The crowd began to chant and sing as they brandished their Wakandan salute. The song wasn't a cheerful and expressive tune as all the others were. It was stiff, loud…. He could feel the anger of many in it. The Marube Tribe was suddenly brought up a dozen levels…. And Brontë could feel many blaming him for it.