Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 46: Close Combat

Chapter 46: Close Combat

The battlefield had become a warzone of fire and fading strength.

Ron’s claws scraped the dungeon floor as he skidded to a halt, panting hard, his velociraptor form showing deep black burns along his scaled shoulder.

Smoke rose from his hide.

One of his arms hung low, clearly dislocated.

Still, his eyes remained wild, unwilling to yield.

Shiro stood beside him, legs trembling. His black ninja uniform was torn and soaked in sweat, with several long singe-marks across his back and left thigh.

His shadow clones were gone now, completely shredded in the last barrage. His kunai was cracked. His breathing shallow.

Lina floated a short distance above the ground, her ghostly veil flickering and pulsing weakly.

Her ethereal arms were barely holding shape, and her mist-like body twitched with each painful heartbeat.

She could no longer summon more phantoms. Her soul energy had been drained thin from the repeated attacks.

Klee was at the rear, desperately using her green-glowing healing hands, pouring life into them. Her lips were pale. Her eyes fluttered. Each time she healed one of them, her legs wobbled more.

Lava Scissor laughed across the chamber.

His lava body pulsed with fresh fury, dancing with cruel light as he dragged his massive shears through the floor, carving a molten path like a hellish plow.

"YOU’RE ALL BARELY STANDING!" he roared.

"IS THIS YOUR STRONGEST, HEROES?!"

The sound was thunder and flame.

He was toying with them. Not because they weren’t trying—but because their attacks had no meaning.

They couldn’t scratch him. Couldn’t cut through his burning stone. Couldn’t stop his wild, brutal, relentless strikes.

Then—

A shift.

Elius stepped forward, his footsteps slow but sure.

In both of his hands, he gripped two of his swords.

The air around him seemed to change—grow heavier, yet quieter.

"Ron, Shiro, Lina," he said softly.

His voice was calm, like a wind that drifted through the smoke.

"...Klee."

All four looked up at once.

They froze.

Elius’s face was cold.

His eyes were sharp.

There was something... different about him.

A shift in his presence.

The swords in his hands hummed—not with flashy light or energy—but with intent. Controlled, bound, and quietly lethal.

He turned his head slightly, looking at them over his shoulder.

"Let me deal with him alone."

No shout. No bravado.

Just certainty.

They stared.

"W-what...?" Shiro muttered, his grip tightening on his broken kunai.

"You can’t," Lina whispered. "He’s... he’s immune to damage—"

"I’m not asking," Elius said.

He walked forward, dragging the tips of both swords across the stone.

Far above, in the unseen rafters of the dungeon’s observation hall, hidden from all eyes behind layers of invisible screens, Radiant Man stood before a floating crystal, arms crossed, watching the battle unfold through magical surveillance.

His eyes narrowed, golden light glowing within them.

Then his lips curled.

"...It’s working well," he murmured to no one.

From serious to grin, he watched as his son stepped forth.

Solarion’s most powerful ability, ’the Solarion Pride’.

He wanted to see it.

No...

He wanted to force it out.

Down below, Lava Scissor paused.

Then blinked.

Then slowly grinned.

"Hah?" he rasped. "What’s this now?"

Elius didn’t answer.

Just stopped a few meters from him. Blade tips resting against the earth. Shoulders loose.

"You and your team..." Lava Scissor said, chuckling, voice rising like a furnace flare. "You couldn’t even scratch me. You couldn’t even tickle my goddamn toe!"

His laughter spiked.

"You lost! You’re DONE! And now—now you want a fucking duel?!"

He broke into a howl.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! Are you SERIOUS?! Are you out of your damn mind?! What are you gonna do with those toothpicks, huh? Your friends couldn’t help, and now you think you can win ALONE?! You’re hilarious!"

The chamber trembled from his laughter. Lava gurgled at his feet.

Elius didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Just said:

"I never used my sword with both hands."

Lava Scissor’s amusement dimmed just slightly.

"I only controlled them before," Elius continued. "Have you ever seen me swing them?"

Silence fell.

Lava Scissor’s grin faltered. He tilted his head.

"...Huh," he said.

Then smiled again.

"You’re right. You’re right."

He raised his scissor-hands into the air, gleeful fire spilling from his back.

"Then let’s dance, sword boy!"

And he lunged.

BOOM!

His foot shattered the stone behind him as he charged forward, his right scissor swinging from overhead like a falling mountain.

Elius raised his left blade and met it—

CLAAAAANG!

Sparks exploded.

The sound echoed like a gong.

Lava Scissor laughed.

"You parried that? Not bad! LET’S TRY THE OTHER SIDE!"

SLASH!

The second scissor came low and wide, aiming for Elius’s legs.

Elius turned, dragging his right blade up in a crescent block.

SKRREEEEEEEENK!

Steel met lava-steel, and Elius slid backward a meter.

But he didn’t fall.

He pivoted, stance low, both blades raised again.

Lava Scissor didn’t stop.

SLAM! SLASH! SWING! BASH!

Blow after blow rained down.

Overhead strikes.

Side sweeps.

Diagonal cleaves meant to bisect.

CRASH! KLANG! WHAM! SHRREEK!

Each strike carried the force to crack boulders, shatter bones, and melt metal.

But Elius blocked them all.

His arms didn’t waver.

His body didn’t stumble.

Every time Lava Scissor came in from the right, he met it with his left blade. When he swung from the left, Elius raised his right. When he struck from both sides at once—

Elius crossed his swords and locked the blow in a dead center clash.

Lava Scissor’s laughter grew more unstable.

"What’s this... what the hell is this!?" he screamed mid-attack. "You were so weak just a second ago!"

Elius stepped left and pivoted on his heel.

CLANG!

He caught a vertical strike, turned, and slammed his blade into Lava Scissor’s arm, pushing him back slightly. Not injuring—but deflecting.

"You were playing DEAD?!" Lava Scissor bellowed. "You—NO! This is a trick! You’re using some hidden gear, aren’t you!?"

Elius didn’t reply.

Another sweep came—he ducked under, slid forward, and blocked again.

Then—

For the first time—

Countered.

A single slash.

Fast. Sharp. Controlled.

It hit Lava Scissor’s forearm and left a mark—not a wound, but a scar of cooled lava.

Lava Scissor stopped.

Eyes wide.

Breathing loud.

"You’re not just defending anymore..." he said.

His voice had dropped.

Confused. Curious.

Elius said nothing.

His blades rested at his side again.

Lava Scissor took one step back.

"Why..." he muttered, eyes flicking up and down Elius’s form. "Why did you—attack me?"

"...Why didn’t you just keep defending?"

The clangs of steel and magma had echoed like war drums—now, there was silence.

A silence that throbbed with tension and waiting fury.

Elius stood in the center of the molten battlefield, breathing slowly, his twin swords lowered at his sides.

Sweat dripped from his jawline, but his hands didn’t shake. His heart was calm. Centered.

He stared at Lava Scissor, who now paced in a slow, irritated circle. Smoke billowed from his glowing shoulders. His magma skin hissed and popped as stray droplets cooled mid-air, his heat no longer as fierce as before.

It wasn’t that Lava Scissor was suddenly weaker. No, his power still raged like a volcano, but something had shifted. His rhythm was broken.

Elius had attacked.

And more than that—he’d landed a hit.

That fact clawed at the villain’s pride.

But inside Elius, there was a different storm.

He hadn’t been attacking earlier for one reason: he was chasing a feeling.

The feeling he knew from Earth. That feeling when he was fighting beasts in that game. The cultivation game mechanics that guided him. That intoxicating clarity when body, spirit, and thought aligned.

It wasn’t about timing.

It wasn’t even about power.

It was rhythm.

During the Goblin fights earlier, he had used his fists—he’d punched, elbowed, stomped. It wasn’t elegant, but it helped him train his physical cultivation realm.

Mortal Body Condensation, the first step to true immortal might. His bones were denser. His skin tougher. His internal organs fortified.

But back then, he hadn’t needed his swords. Because of that, he had never used them.

Use them early with a weak body against goblins? He was dreaming.

He wasn’t going to take that risk unless Elius had no choice.

Just like now.

Now?

Now he did.

And now, for the first time, he felt it.

That flow. That clarity. That bridge between mind and muscle, between soul and steel.

Elius raised one of his swords and casually pointed it at Lava Scissor.

"Hey," he said calmly, almost mockingly. "Why are you so surprised I attacked?"