Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 135: Done

Chapter 135: Done

Keity would force himself to stay awake, but the robot was not done.

BOOM!

The fire robot beast’s heavy fist crashed into the ground—barely missing Keith by inches after he rolled himself a little.

The ground splintered, cracks webbing out like a spider’s net.

Debris shot up from the shockwave, metal and concrete raining down in shards.

But Keith had already rolled away, his body moving on pure instinct.

His breath ragged, his muscles burning, vision blurred—but his will sharper than ever.

He wasn’t giving up.

He wouldn’t die here.

He sprang to his feet. His legs wobbled, and blood trickled from his lip, but he clenched his fists tighter.

Elius watched from a distance, unmoving, arms crossed as his flying swords hovered near, silent.

He said nothing.

This was Keith’s fight now.

The fire beast roared again, flames erupting from vents across its shoulders and chest.

Its giant arms burned with molten light. It stomped forward, metal feet smashing through the debris like a machine of war.

Keith didn’t wait. He ran forward.

His mind echoed with every instruction Elius had barked at him earlier.

He remembered how Elius moved, how he guided the enemy, how he always stayed three steps ahead. Keith’s breath timed with each step. His movements more fluid now. Smoother.

Think, he told himself.

Predict.

The beast’s left arm raised high, glowing—

Keith pivoted.

A blast of fire shot where he’d just been.

He rushed low, ducking under its swing. His hand grabbed a broken pipe from the ground, and as he passed, he slammed it into the creature’s knee joint.

CLANG!

The beast faltered, but spun quickly, trying to backhand him.

Keith jumped over the sweeping arm.

But the heat singed his side—he gritted his teeth and kept moving.

"You’re learning," Elius muttered to himself, watching with a slight nod. "Not fast enough—but better."

The fire robot roared again and surged forward. Keith rolled under it, then grabbed onto a hanging pipe. He pulled himself up and used the momentum to swing around and land on the fire beast’s back.

With a shout, Keith drove the broken pipe into one of its shoulder vents.

CRACK!

Steam burst out. The robot shuddered violently.

But it didn’t fall.

It twisted—jolted—reaching back to grab him.

Keith leaped off just in time.

He landed hard, rolled, and winced from the shock of pain shooting up his leg.

But he stood again.

Always standing.

The fire beast turned slower now. One leg stuttered. One shoulder vent sparking wildly.

Keith ran again.

This time, he didn’t aim for brute force. He aimed for the pattern Elius had taught him—predicting where the fire robot would strike, using its own weight and momentum against it.

He sprinted in a circle, forcing the creature to follow.

Each time it turned, it exposed the cracked joint again.

Each time it swung, it missed by inches.

Each time it roared, it lost just a bit more energy.

Then—Keith struck.

A flying leap, both fists together, and he drove them straight into the already-damaged vent on its back.

CRUNCH!

Sparks exploded.

The fire beast lurched, its limbs spasming.

Keith didn’t stop. He grabbed the edge of its collar-armor, pulled himself up like a monkey climbing a tree, and began hammering down with both fists into its exposed neck.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A final punch—his entire body behind it—sank deep into the beast’s main conduit.

And finally—the robot stopped.

Its glow flickered.

Its limbs slackened.

Then, it fell forward—crashing into the ground with a deafening BOOM, steam and flame gushing from its chest as it shut down permanently.

Keith collapsed beside it, panting, sweat pouring down his body.

His knuckles were bleeding. His clothes were scorched. His ribs probably cracked.

But he was smiling.

He’d done it.

He looked up at Elius.

"Did I do good?"

Elius didn’t answer right away. He walked over slowly, hands still behind his back. His expression calm—but sharp. Cold.

Keith looked up, hopeful.

"I won... right?"

Elius’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head slightly.

"Let me tell you everything you did wrong."

Keith blinked.

"What?"

Elius raised one finger.

"First. You got hit. Repeatedly."

Keith opened his mouth—but Elius cut him off.

"You let yourself get hit. A fight like this isn’t a classroom where bruises are lessons. A single mistake in real battle equals death."

Keith winced.

"Second," Elius continued, voice like iron, "you forgot to breathe correctly. Midway through the fight, your muscles locked because you didn’t regulate your spirit circulation properly. That cost you speed."

"But—"

"Third. You hesitated when you should’ve committed. That delay almost got you slammed again. Your mind isn’t synchronized with your body."

Keith looked down, ashamed.

Elius stepped closer.

"Fourth. Your pattern was predictable. I knew where you would strike each time. If I did, the enemy could, too."

He walked around Keith now like a drill instructor.

"Fifth. Your footing was sloppy. Your escape rolls lacked momentum. That’s why you kept taking grazes. Tighter coils, sharper pivots—your movement was two seconds behind the rhythm."

Keith was frozen.

"Sixth. Your body control was a mess. No flexibility in the hips, too much tension in your shoulders. If you had relaxed your stance, your attacks would’ve carried more power."

Elius exhaled softly.

"Seventh. You relied on instinct, but instinct without training is just panicked guessing. You need structure. Form. Drills."

Keith sat in silence.

It hurt more than the fire beast’s punches.

But somehow, it also felt...

Honest.

Elius didn’t sugarcoat it.

And yet—none of it sounded cruel.

It sounded real.

Keith looked up, blinking rapidly.

"I... I didn’t think I was that bad."

"You’re not," Elius said simply. "You’re better than most. But you’re my brother. And you can be more."

Keith smiled, even though he felt like crying.

"Then... I’ll get better."

Elius turned away.

"You’d better."

Keith laid back, his whole body aching, but his heart steady.

Elius stopped at the edge of the broken hallway and turned his head slightly.

"Rest here," he said.

"Huh?"

Elius raised a hand.

"Let me roam the dungeon first. There’s something I need to find."

Keith frowned. "Wait, shouldn’t I—"

"No."

Elius looked forward again, his swords floating around him.

"You’ve done enough for now. Heal up. We’ve got more to face later."

And with that, Elius stepped into the shadows of the next passage, his silhouette vanishing behind walls of steam and flickering lights—leaving Keith lying on the scorched floor, fists clenched, heart thumping with pride and pain.