Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 112: Defend Defend

Chapter 112: Defend Defend

The white tiger humanoid, Target Locker, simply stood there for a long moment after knocking away Elius’s sword, casual and confident, the light glinting off the razor-like claws at his fingertips.

He shifted his weight slightly, causing the heavy floor beneath his paws to creak softly, and then he chuckled — a deep, rumbling sound that filled the massive training arena.

"You don’t get it, kid, this is a waste of time for me," the tiger said with a slow shake of his head, his predatory blue eyes locked onto Elius like a beast eyeing a trapped animal.

"I can evade your attacks all day long."

He lifted one claw and casually waved it through the air. "Easily. Even with my eyes close..."

Elius’s face tensed, the first bead of sweat forming at his temple.

He grit his teeth and spun his floating swords around him, sending them darting and striking from all directions, blades like a silver storm.

One from the left.

One from the right.

One from above.

But it didn’t matter.

Target Locker moved with a fluid grace that was terrifying to watch.

Every single time a sword slashed at him, he would casually tilt his head, shift a foot, or move a shoulder, making Elius’s attacks miss by the thinnest of margins.

There was no wasted movement.

No panic.

No hesitation.

It was effortless.

It was insulting.

And then, suddenly, the tiger moved.

In a heartbeat, he surged forward, a white blur that crossed the arena faster than Elius could react.

His massive claws raked through the air with a sound like a ripping sail.

SWOOSH!

Elius barely kicked off one of his swords, flying higher to avoid the deadly strike — but the tiger simply bent his knees and leapt after him.

It was like a missile being launched from the ground.

The speed! The force!

Elius’s heart pounded furiously as he realized—

even in the air, he wasn’t safe.

Panic rose in his chest, but he forced it down, forced himself to think.

He immediately commanded his swords to orbit tighter around him, weaving them into a fast-moving circle of defense.

The closer the swords spun around him, the faster they moved, forming a shimmering, silver cocoon of whirling death.

Every inch of the air around him was his domain now.

He could control the angle, speed, and force of every blade.

He could defend —

he had to defend —

perfectly.

The tiger’s eyes gleamed with the thrill of the unexpected challenge.

For the first time, as his claws scraped against the barrier of spinning swords, his expression shifted—

from smug amusement

to genuine surprise.

He skidded back, claws ringing against the flying blades.

Then, after a heartbeat of stunned silence,

he began to laugh.

A deep, booming laugh that shook the air.

"This—" he growled between chuckles, "—this is what I like, kid! Finally, some spine! This is going to be great! No wonder you are confident! I love it! The smeel or confidence!"

Without hesitation, Target Locker charged again, and Elius met him with a furious storm of flashing steel.

Every time the tiger attacked —

swiping with claws, kicking with powerful legs, slamming his shoulder into the spinning barrier —

Elius responded instantly, his swords shifting to intercept, block, deflect.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Each impact rang through the arena like thunder, vibrating down Elius’s bones.

The white tiger never stopped laughing.

Every hit that didn’t break through, every near-miss, only made his mirth grow louder, deeper, more savage.

"Good!" he roared, slamming both claws against the swirling blades, sending sparks flying. "Fight! Defend! Endure!"

But Elius felt the strain building.

Controlling the swords so precisely, so rapidly, was draining his Spiritual Qi at an alarming rate.

Sweat poured down his back now, soaking his shirt.

His fingers ached from the constant fine-tuned movements.

And yet—

he couldn’t falter.

He couldn’t afford even a single mistake.

The tiger’s relentless assault was only getting faster.

More powerful.

More brutal.

Target Locker struck again, his claws scraping across the spinning swords, forcing Elius to tighten his formation even more, drawing the blades closer to his body, until he could almost feel the wind from their passing kissing his skin.

And then—

BOOM!

The tiger took a mighty leap backward, landing on the opposite side of the arena with a ground-shaking thud.

He stood there, arms folded, a wide grin stretched across his furred face.

"You’re good," he said, voice carrying across the empty space between them. "Really good."

He pounded a massive paw against his chest with a THUD.

"You’ve survived this long. You’ve shown backbone. I like that, kid."

Elius floated warily in the air, breathing hard, swords spinning around him, wary of the sudden pause.

"But!"

The tiger’s grin widened to a vicious, predatory sneer.

"Now... the real game begins."

Before Elius could even open his mouth, the white tiger lifted one arm, flexed his claws — and sliced the air.

WHOOSH!

A crescent-shaped blade of wind erupted from his claws, slicing toward Elius with blinding speed.

Elius’s eyes widened in horror.

This wasn’t a physical attack.

It was compressed wind, razor-sharp and fast as lightning.

He barely had time to react.

He screamed a command mentally, spinning three swords to intercept—

just in time.

The wind blade smashed into his defenses, forcing him back through the air, his muscles screaming from the impact.

But he wasn’t given a moment to rest.

Another wind slash came flying.

And another.

And another.

The tiger was like a living artillery battery now, slashing the air again and again, each strike sending another deadly wind blade hurtling toward him.

Elius’s mind raced frantically as he moved his swords in a desperate blur, parrying, deflecting, barely surviving.

SWOOSH!

CLANG!

WHUMP!

Every successful defense made the tiger laugh harder and harder, his booming voice echoing around the arena like a war drum.

"This is what I like!" Target Locker bellowed, slashing the air with gleeful abandon. "Fight back! Struggle! Show me your teeth, kid!"

Elius’s arms trembled.

His vision blurred at the edges.

His Qi reserves were draining dangerously low.

And still the tiger attacked.

SLASH!

SLASH!

SLASH!

Wind blades rained down like a storm of guillotine blades, slicing the ground, the air, the very space around Elius.

Every one sharper than the last.

Every one faster than the last.

The tiger’s mouth curled into a wild grin as he felt his power escalating, the cutting force of his wind blades growing more and more intense.

He could feel it—

the moment drawing near.

The point when the kid would falter.

"Soon," he thought savagely, raising his claw one last time.

"This one will fall."

He roared and unleashed a final devastating slash —

the wind blade gleaming white-hot with condensed, murderous force.

And in his mind, he saw it already—

the kid,sliced clean in half, falling from the sky like a broken doll.

The thought made the tiger’s heart pound with savage anticipation.

This was the moment.

The white humanoid tiger stood, frozen for a brief moment in disbelief, his final wind slash hanging in the air like a guillotine waiting to fall—and yet, it never landed.

Instead, Target Locker’s sharp eyes narrowed as he saw the shimmering vortex of Elius’s swords still spinning fiercely, unharmed.

Not even a crack.

Not even a chip.

The white tiger’s fur bristled slightly along his arms as he absorbed what he was seeing.

Then, he let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Well, kid..." he growled, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and genuine admiration, "that was unexpected."

He clapped his massive hands together once, a BOOM echoing out through the arena.

"I like it even more now!"

Without missing a beat, he spread his claws wide, the air around him humming and shivering with raw power.

A sudden explosion of force erupted around his body as he began to slash, and slash, and slash at the air repeatedly.

Every movement of his arms carved out dozens of glowing arcs of compressed wind energy, each larger and sharper than the last.

They flew through the air in chaotic, overlapping patterns—each a shimmering blade of death that would have sliced an ordinary cultivator into ribbons within seconds.

WHOOSH!

BOOM!

SLASH!

The arcs of wind howled toward Elius with the fury of a storm.

The pressure alone pressed down on the boy’s shoulders like invisible weights.

Elius gritted his teeth and tightened his formation, commanding his swords to weave into an even tighter, more precise sphere around him.

Each sword danced with blinding speed, creating countless afterimages as they spun faster and faster, intercepting the wind arcs with bursts of metallic clangs and gusts of displaced air.

CLANG!

CLANG!

SHING!

KLANG!

Again and again, the deadly wind arcs smashed against the spinning defenses, but—the swords held firm.

No cracks.

No fractures.

.No signs of wear.

The white tiger’s laughter grew louder, wilder, a manic joy glimmering in his eyes at first—but slowly, almost imperceptibly, the edges of his grin began to twitch.

Something was wrong.

He launched another barrage of wind arcs, even fiercer now, sweeping the ground and carving huge trenches through the arena floor.

Tiles shattered.

The steel reinforcements groaned and warped under the assault.

The very air screamed.

And yet—those damned swords still spun in front of Elius, untouchable.

No cracks.

No signs of fatigue.

No damage.

A flicker of confusion danced across the white tiger’s face.

His claws flexed unconsciously.

"What..." he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing dangerously.

His ability — is not working?