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Wakandan Tradition

Forseti was taken aback by the words but instantly recognized the disheveled figure before him as Bashenga, the Black Panther.

"Flocari, my friend, you know who I am—the rightful king of Wakanda. They are traitors, usurpers. It's only fair you assist me," Bashenga's tone was urgent and sharp.

Flocari shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bashenga. The Supreme Sanctuary does not intervene in human internal conflicts. It's a principle set by our first Supreme Master... However, you're welcome to reside here with us."

Bashenga's gaze shifted, catching sight of Forseti who had just arrived.

"Forseti!" He exclaimed in surprise.

Forseti scrutinized Bashenga's battered appearance. "What happened, Bashenga? How did this come to pass?"

Bashenga sighed heavily, grief etched on his face. "It's because I placed too much trust in them!"

"Them?" Forseti inquired.

Bashenga hesitated, clenching his fists in silence.

Flocari interjected, "It was his younger brother, Itakin, and his wife. While Bashenga fought frost giants abroad, they conspired to seize his throne."

Forseti was astonished, looking at Bashenga anew, a tinge of sympathy coloring his perception.

Reflecting on Black Panther T'Challa's later experiences, Wakanda evidently had a history of power struggles.

"So, this happened because you attempted to reclaim your rightful rule but were thwarted?" Forseti queried.

Bashenga nodded sadly, his clenched fists trembling. "When I returned to Wakanda, Itakin had already crowned himself king and Black Panther. He invoked our tradition, demanding a duel to legitimize his claim. Yet, that treacherous scoundrel deceived me!"

Forseti motioned for him to continue.

"He insisted both of us drink the heart-shaped herb's removal potion before dueling, rendering us equal in strength. I complied, but he did not!"

"He then pursued me relentlessly. Were it not for my loyal guards sacrificing themselves to cover my escape..."

Bashenga's voice wavered, eyes reddening. "All my guards, my brothers, perished."

A somber silence hung in the room.

Bashenga turned to Forseti, desperation evident. "Forseti, you must aid me. Help me reclaim my throne."

Forseti considered his plea. "How can I assist you? Should I eliminate Itakin?"

Bashenga hesitated, then replied, "No, I seek only a fair duel. I will defeat Itakin with my own hands, proving who the true Black Panther is!"

Forseti was taken aback. "Are you certain?"

Bashenga nodded confidently. "In a fair duel, Itakin cannot defeat me. He has never bested me since childhood, and this will be no different."

"Forseti, with your formidable powers as a God warrior, you can make this happen."

Forseti pondered briefly before agreeing, "Very well, I will aid you, but on one condition."

"What condition?" Bashenga asked eagerly.

"I have an interest in Wakanda's vibranium..."

Before Forseti could finish, Bashenga assured him, "Vibranium will be yours. Wakanda's mines will suffice for millennia. Once I reclaim my throne, it's yours."

Forseti chuckled softly, while Flocari, on the sidelines, appeared regretful for his earlier refusal to aid Bashenga.

After spending a few days in London assisting with the city's reconstruction and the London Sanctuary's restoration, Forseti and Bashenga prepared to depart.

"Are you ready?" Forseti asked.

Bashenga nodded resolutely. "I feel the Panther God's protection. I will regain my mantle as Wakanda's Black Panther."

His injuries healed, Bashenga donned new armor, though lacking vibranium, as he had lost most of his resources fleeing Wakanda.

Forseti said little, gesturing towards Shilut.

"Bzzt." Shilut rose from the ground, standing firm as a rock.

Later, Forseti arranged for a mage to open a portal, and they swiftly arrived in Wakanda, East Africa.

It was Forseti's first glimpse of Wakanda, a nation unlike any other.

Present-day Wakanda was a city of marvels, futuristic and akin to New York's Manhattan, but it was 965 AD, devoid of skyscrapers.

Wakanda, adorned with stone buildings, included towering structures and two colossal black panther statues, simple yet imposing.

Wakanda's vista was breathtaking from afar.

Shortly after Bashenga's arrival, a battalion of soldiers converged, surrounding them with poised spears.

Witnessing this, Bashenga fumed, "I am Wakanda's Black Panther, your rightful king!"

There was a stir among the soldiers until an officer-like figure stepped forward, addressing him coldly, "Bashenga, Itakin now reigns as Wakanda's king. You're a fugitive, and I am ordered to arrest you."

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