Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 115: A call

Chapter 115: A call

The cold gleam of the blade pressed harder against the white humanoid tiger’s neck, drawing a fine, trembling line of blood across his white fur.

His body shook violently, the muscles in his shoulders taut with terror. His claws, once weapons of devastation, now trembled uselessly at his sides.

His entire frame sagged, collapsing under the sheer pressure of death that hovered a hair’s breadth from him.

"P-please... spare me...! It’s not really... not really my fault... I beg of you... please..." he choked out, voice cracked and desperate.

Elius’s golden eyes remained unreadable, emotionless, only the faint, icy gleam in his gaze revealing the intensity of the storm raging inside him.

He didn’t move the blade yet; he just watched silently as the proud warrior who, mere minutes ago, roared and thrashed with invincible arrogance, now crumbled into a pitiful figure pleading for his life.

Inside, Elius’s thoughts churned.

"Should I kill him? He’s annoying me..."

He tightened his grip slightly, feeling the slight resistance of the skin against the blade.

Logically, it would be safer.

One less enemy.

No risks of retaliation later.

Clean, simple.

And yet—

"Maybe I can use him, no, really him but his skill," Elius mused coldly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

If he spared the tiger, he could invite him into his hidden ’party’ through his internal cultivation system inside the dungeon dimension.

The system had a feature — when a new member joined, it would generate a random martial skill based on that individual’s attributes, combat style, and talents.

That meant — potentially — he could steal a Martial Skill that mimicked the humanoid tiger’s devastating wind claws.

However, Elius wasn’t naive.

The creation was random.

It could end up generating something related to wind manipulation — which would be useful—or it could create some obscure, less-useful transformation ability like a partial White Tiger hybrid form.

Just like when he thought he could copy Balkan beast taming, what he received was only a Gu implant ability, which is also useful.

Additionally, Monkaar received an ability that allowed him to control himself in mid-air, using the gravity of the Earth below.

He had no guarantees.

It was a gamble.

All were useful.

And worse, in this world, gambles often meant death. This tiger is a superhero, not a sidekick, and he might grow stronger in ways that Elius won’t be able to anticipate if this tiger is affected by his cultivation spirit aura in cultivation party.

However...

Elius’s mind raced.

"Still..."

He glanced down at the trembling white tiger at his mercy.

"Having him alive is another option. If I kill him, he’s gone forever. But if I keep him close, maybe I can bleed more value out of him later."

It wasn’t mercy.

It was strategy.

Finally, Elius sighed quietly, almost annoyed at himself for even considering it.

He loosened his blade a little, enough to stop cutting but still kept it hovering near the skin.

"Next time," Elius said slowly, voice like steel grinding against stone, "don’t try me. I don’t give second chances lightly."

The white humanoid tiger nodded frantically, the movement jerky and desperate.

"I want your information," Elius said coldly. "Now."

The white tiger, still on his knees, hastily pulled a device from his belt — a clunky, scratched-up phone — and stammered out a number.

Elius stared at him flatly.

"Phone number? Seriously?" he said, tone dripping with irritation.

"You think I’m gonna text you? Give me your Superhero ID instead."

The white tiger fumbled even harder, pulling out a small metallic badge-like device, glowing faintly with encrypted signals.

He held it up shakily.

Elius tapped his own badge against it — a sharp beep sounded as their IDs connected, a short confirmation flash signaling a secure link.

Without another word, Elius turned away, lowering his sword.

"Get lost," he said curtly.

The white humanoid tiger hesitated for a fraction of a second, then scrambled to his feet and fled, stumbling several times before disappearing through the broken gates of the mission building.

The dust settled.

Silence fell.

Elius closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, slow breath.

"That bastard was strong," he thought grimly. "If my swords weren’t what they are... if even one thing went wrong, I would have been shredded. And that was just an F-rank peak-level. What the hell is going on?"

As if to answer him, the mechanical voice of the dungeon interface chimed politely in his ear.

"Would you like to continue to the next battle?"

Elius opened one eye lazily, staring at the floating notification.

He snorted. "No."

Inwardly, he thought,

"No way. Not today. Someone’s definitely playing with me. These aren’t random F-rank thugs. They’re peak-level monsters."

He turned and started walking out of the battered arena, the ruined walls still groaning from the aftermath of his battle.

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in hues of burning orange and crimson.

Elius stepped out onto the cracked sidewalk outside the Mission Building and tilted his head up.

He stared at the vast, endless sky.

So many thoughts whirled inside his mind, stacking on top of each other like a collapsing tower.

"I need to become stronger,"

he thought with grim certainty.

"If I stay weak, they’ll kill me. My father... he’s testing me. He’s throwing real killers at me and watching to see if I break."

He clenched his fists tightly at his sides.

"I have to survive. I have to outpace their expectations. I have to grow so fast, so monstrously powerful, that even if they all turn on me, I won’t be crushed."

He thought about the Solarion Empire bloodline he was supposed to fake.

The Solarion bloodline was known for its overwhelming pure power, and regenerative strength.

He needed techniques.

He needed abilities.

He needed to look and fight like a Solarion descendent.

But—

"I can’t just copy someone,"

Elius realized bitterly.

Keith, the original protagonist of this twisted world, would have been his best target.

His bloodline skills would have been perfect for Elius to steal.

But Keith...

he was probably dead.

Or worse — erased from this world entirely.

Elius closed his eyes again, feeling the heavy, suffocating weight of reality.

"I have no one to steal from. No guaranteed skill trees. No guiding hand."

He laughed darkly under his breath.

"Fine."

"Then I’ll do it my way."

No gimmicks.

No cheats.

Just brutal, endless cultivation and tactical theft of whatever abilities he could scrape together.

If the dungeon system’s random Martial Skills gave him anything —

no matter how small —

he would weaponize it.

He would create a new Solarion successor.

A monster in human skin.

Elius opened his eyes slowly, the sunset reflecting off his black irises, making them gleam like pools of blood.

No fake smiles.

No fake brotherhood.

No pretending.

He would become strong.

Stronger than anything in this Academy, stronger than his father, stronger than anyone who dared look down on him.

Only raw power would protect him now.

Only absolute, ruthless strength.

That is the Dao.

The evening wind stirred his hair gently as he stood there, staring up at the limitless sky, contemplating the path he was about to carve in blood and fire.

And then —

BRRRRRRING!

His phone vibrated harshly against his thigh.

Breaking the heavy moment of silence.

Elius exhaled slowly, pulling the device from his pocket with deliberate calm.

He glanced at the screen.

And his eyes narrowed dangerously.