Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 119: Saviour

Chapter 119: Saviour

Elius stood above the unconscious forms of the F-ranked heroes.

Smoke curled around their broken bodies.

Their armor sparked occasionally, their limbs twitching as the aftermath of Zhark’s storm coursed through them.

Elius descended slowly, his boots touching the cracked road with an air of grace.

"You’re just as violent as ever, Zhark," he muttered, brushing dust from his sleeve. "Unapologetic destruction. No purpose. No restraint."

He stepped closer, glancing down at the woman in the purple visor whose armor had melted slightly from the lightning.

The streetlamp above flickered once—and then his four remaining flying swords rose.

With a low hum, they spread out into a perfect diamond formation above the fallen.

Elius exhaled and lifted his hand. The swords pulsed. Not with aggression. Not with cold silver intent.

But with life.

A soft green glow emerged from their edges.

Like the color of budding leaves in spring, of untouched forests and ancient healing grounds.

The glow bathed the broken heroes in light.

Their wounds stopped smoking.

Their bruises began to fade.

Their fingers twitched.

The hum deepened—then softened—as a gentle warmth rolled over the scene.

And then—breathing.

One by one, the F-ranked heroes stirred.

The youngest boy clutched his chest and sat up with a gasp.

The red-helmeted man groaned, reaching for his helmet as cracked ribs healed beneath the armor. And finally, the woman with the visor blinked, groggy but alive.

They looked around, dazed.

"W-what happened?" one asked.

"Wasn’t... wasn’t that lightning supposed to kill us?"

"Who healed us?"

The visor woman pushed herself upright, eyes darting around—until she saw him.

Elius stood there, swords now lowered, their glow fading. His white coat fluttered faintly. His expression unreadable.

"Who... who are you?" she asked, voice hoarse.

"Are you a Superhero?"

Elius nodded.

"I am," he said simply.

The group stared at him, unsure whether to speak or bow.

"You’re not from our squad," said the red-helmeted man. "You don’t look like Academy High either."

"I’m not from your registry," Elius replied. "But I’m an F-ranked Hero from Academy High. Just new."

The woman narrowed her eyes.

"Why were you here? Were you tailing Zhark?"

"No," Elius said, his tone sharp with purpose. "I was tailing you."

"What?"

"I needed to confirm his presence," Elius explained. "You were part of the operation, weren’t you? Sent to sweep the district for cube activity. You were bait."

The woman glanced at her comrades. "We were told there might be cube artifacts involved, but not that Zhark would show up."

"He wasn’t supposed to," the red-helmeted man added. "We thought it was a rogue spike. HQ flagged the energy reading as ’unstable but low risk’."

Elius shook his head. "They underestimated it. Zhark’s not just searching—he’s working with others. I heard him mention three names."

The woman tensed. "Which names?"

"Keith. Shania. Fraven."

There was a long silence.

The wind blew, carrying ash and the scent of ionized metal.

"Those names," whispered the young boy. "They’re the other trouble makers that surfaced recently. From Galvan City. Keith was the most troublesome one of the four of them..."

"Yeah," the woman said, eyes narrowing. "But there’s no information, right? Those characters were working together."

Elius stared into the distance. "I came here to solve them personally, I requested it from the authorities..."

He stepped closer to the group.

"I’ll take this mission. I’ll track and hunt Zhark myself."

"You can’t," the woman objected. "He’s a registered F-Rank threat in the wild! He’s about to reach F ranked second level. Lightning Manipulation, teleportation variance, high-speed reaction time—"

"I’ll go alone," Elius repeated. "You’ve already served your purpose. You’ve drawn him out. Leave the rest to me."

"You don’t understand!" the red-helmeted man cried. "He’ll kill you! He took out six of us in seconds! Even if you’re stronger compared to us, you’re still just a new F-ranked. This isn’t a game!"

Elius didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached into his inner coat and withdrew three crystals.

They glowed faintly brown, shot through with veins of pulsing gold. Earth-aligned mana stones—high-purity class.

He handed one to each of the three senior heroes.

"Compensation," he said. "Use them to recover. Or sell them to upgrade your equipment."

The woman looked down at the crystal in her hand, her eyes wide.

"This... this is pure Earth magic. Refined. Where did you even get—"

"I hope that’s enough," Elius said, turning his back.

They were quiet for a moment. Then the red-helmeted man said, "Wait."

Elius paused.

"What’s your name?"

He turned his head slightly, and the wind blew his golden hair to the side, revealing his eyes—cold, sharp, resolute.

"...I’m the Sword Immortal."

The three of them blinked.

Then the woman smiled faintly, despite her wounds.

"Sword Immortal, huh?"

The boy beamed. "Coolest name I’ve ever heard."

The red-helmeted man gave a soft chuckle. "Well, Sword Immortal... good luck. And goodbye."

Elius nodded.

The floating swords drifted around him once more, and in a blur of silver light, he vanished into the alleyways of Galvan City—chasing a storm.

Elius eyes gleamed with resolve, his white coat barely catching the starlight, and his flying swords hovered behind him like divine extensions of his will.

Soon, the wind whispered across Galvan City’s nighttime skyline as Elius moved like a silent ghost between rooftops, alleys, and crumbling concrete zones where the echoes of recent battles still lingered.

Below him, another group of battered bodies of more F-ranked superheroes lay sprawled in groups, some still groaning, others entirely unconscious.

Another group of Zhark’s lightning victims.

Some were burned by lightning, others crushed by debris. But all of them bore the brutal signature of Zhark’s power—and none of them would remember how it happened.

Swoosh.

A single sword hovered above a collapsed medic in blue armor.

A faint green glow spilled down like gentle rain, washing over the bruises and torn ligaments in her legs. Her breathing steadied.

The gash across her collarbone closed slowly, cleanly, leaving only bloodstained fabric behind.

Elius watched from a nearby ledge, expression unreadable.

I don’t want credit, he thought grimly. I don’t care about recognition or climbing some Academy ranking board.

His eyes narrowed as his second sword hovered toward a squad leader trapped under a concrete slab.

But if they die...

He waved his hand. A third sword sliced the concrete in half without harming the man beneath it.

The healing glow poured out immediately, bathing the man in rejuvenation.

...If they die and the higher-ups connect the attacks to Keith—

He paused.

His eyes hardened.

—then it’s over. My plan. My leverage. My control over Keith’s fate. No, my Martial Skill that’s from Solarion Empire would disappear.

The boy was important.

More than important.

He was the key to a string of future events Elius couldn’t yet see clearly. But it would all collapse if Keith was branded a villain or traitor this early. He needed Keith to grow.

To awaken. To mature as a hero.

So he could steal his power.

And so, Elius moved, swoosh after swoosh, patching up scorched F-ranks with a silent benevolence he refused to admit as compassion.

To him, it was a strategy.

Just the next logical step in a very long and dangerous game.

When he was done, he vanished once more—leaving no name, no trace, no glory.