Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 50: That’s enough

Chapter 50: That’s enough

Elius didn’t know if it would work.

He had no delusions of grandeur, no misplaced confidence in some invincible punch or secret hero bloodline.

No, in that very moment, with golden light blazing around him and the cracked earth trembling beneath his feet, he was terrified.

How do you defeat something that doesn’t die?

A creature that laughs at death, a thing that’s been atomized, incinerated, broken, shredded—only to come back again and again?

A monster whose very essence defies logic, reason, mortality?

How do you contain something made of living, molten destruction?

Lava Scissor wasn’t just powerful. He was wrong existence. He wasn’t a villain you could simply outmaneuver or overpower. He was a phenomenon, like a storm, a curse, a living apocalypse.

Elius’s teeth clenched.

His breath trembled in his lungs as he whispered, "So be it..."

His fingers trembled ever so slightly, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him like a mountain.

"I don’t have a choice..."

He looked up at the towering beast in front of him, molten cracks still glowing in Lava Scissor’s obsidian flesh.

His fists tightened.

"I’m betting everything on you, System."

He swallowed hard, heart pounding in his ears like war drums.

"If I’m going to die here, then so be it!"

And then—he moved.

Not of his own will.

No. This was different.

Something had taken over. Something... smooth, instinctive, absolute.

His body flowed like water, like wind. His muscles obeyed commands not from his brain, but from some deeper interface—a divine puppeteer.

Lava Scissor, laughing madly, reeled his arm back for a punch that could have shattered a mountain.

"Let’s gooooo!!"

But then—Elius slipped under it, the attack grazing nothing but air.

And in that single blink of time—

SWOOSH!

The air cracked.

The battlefield twisted.

Elius’s arms locked beneath Lava Scissor’s center of mass with impossible precision, one hand coiling behind the abomination’s spine, the other gripping the edge of his inner thigh with vice-like strength.

The world seemed to stop for just a second.

Lava Scissor’s grin froze, his arms still wide, his chest still puffed.

"What the—"

And that was the last thing he saw before it happened.

Elius’s feet pivoted.

His hips dropped.

He squatted down with impossible strength—and with an earth-shattering heave, he lifted the entire mass of Lava Scissor into the air, upside down, into the sky.

It wasn’t human.

It wasn’t possible.

Lava Scissor weighed several tons, his body composed of dense, magma-charged alloyed flesh. And yet, Elius—through the system’s manipulation, through the miracle of whatever technique Heavenly Earthquake Invincible Slam was—threw him.

Not a toss.

Not a push.

An exaggerated, god-defying, impossibly beautiful judo lift.

Lava Scissor’s grotesque body spun through the air like a meteor hurled by the hand of a god. His eyes widened in slow motion. All he saw—just before the world flipped upside down—was Elius’s face.

Calm.

Serious.

Focused.

Not shouting. Not growling.

Just... resolute.

And then—

KABAM!!!

The impact shook the entire training zone. Dust exploded into the sky like a volcanic eruption.

Shockwaves rippled outward in a perfect circle, knocking back small stones, shaking the floating camera drones, and splitting the ground in jagged, smoking fractures.

The crater he left behind was massive.

A giant hole in the middle of the battlefield, with fissures cracking outward like a spider web of destruction.

When the dust settled...

Elius stood there.

Completely upright.

His golden aura had dimmed slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. He didn’t say a word. He just lifted his hands slowly, calmly—then wiped one palm against the other, brushing off the ashes, the debris, the sweat.

Like someone cleaning up after finishing a mundane chore.

Ron, the velociraptor-man, dropped the rock he’d been holding mid-charge.

Lina, the ghost-finger girl, gasped audibly, eyes wide behind her bangs.

Shiro, the black-clad ninja, didn’t even blink—because he forgot how to.

Klee, the green-haired healer, froze mid-incantation, hands still glowing with light that never got cast.

No one spoke.

No one could.

"Was that...?" Ron finally mumbled.

"Martial arts?" Lina whispered, voice trembling. "What... kind of martial art was that?"

"He just... threw him," Shiro said, his voice flat. "Like he weighed nothing."

And there, still lying in the middle of the crater, was Lava Scissor.

The lava flowing through his body was dimming. His molten veins flickered like dying embers. His stone flesh was cracked, steam rising from every seam. His limbs twitched. His jaw opened slightly, no words forming, only a stunned hiss.

It looked like—maybe—it was over.

"...Did it work?" Klee whispered.

"Is he... dead?" Ron asked.

But before anyone could answer—

THUD.

A faint sound.

Lava Scissor’s hand twitched.

Then his head turned.

And then—he moved.

His cracked arm gripped the earth, pulling his broken body inch by inch out of the crater.

"I..." he muttered, voice raspy and hoarse. "I’m... not..."

But he didn’t finish.

Because Elius was already there.

Not walking.

Not stalking.

Just there—like thunder.

Without hesitation, without warning—

He grabbed Lava Scissor by the head.

The monster’s eyes widened, the last flickers of laughter gone.

Then—again—

Elius lifted him.

Not as a warrior fighting a worthy opponent.

But as a reaper delivering a final sentence.

Every ounce of force in his body coiled like a spring, energy focused in his legs, hips, spine, and arms.

The golden aura returned, stronger now, flashing like a divine signal through the cracks of his robe.

Then—

BOOM!!!

He slammed Lava Scissor down again—harder this time.

The ground exploded.

This wasn’t just force. It was finality.

A statement.

You do not get up from this.

Another crater formed, this one deeper, more jagged, glowing red from the sheer friction and heat.

The battlefield trembled.

And this time—there was no movement from Lava Scissor.

Only smoke.

Only silence.

Only Elius.

Standing tall, chest rising and falling, his eyes staring into the fading light of his enemy.

No words were needed.

Not now.

The twitch was small.

A subtle shudder in the mound of shattered obsidian and cooled magma that was Lava Scissor’s body. But it was enough.

Enough to pull the breath from the onlookers’ lungs. Enough to send ripples through the tension in the air.

Lava Scissor... was still alive.

Barely.

He lay broken, buried halfway in a crater that looked like it had been carved by a meteor strike.

The battlefield around them was wrecked beyond repair—charred earth, molten rock, lingering golden light in the cracks of the earth.

His fingers twitched again. His mouth slowly opened, quivering, drool mixed with lava spilling down the side of his chin. His eyes—once blazing furnaces of arrogance—were wide with something new.

Fear.

But it wasn’t just fear.

He was confused.

He didn’t understand.

Why did his entire body hurt?

His nerves screamed. His chest pulsed in agony. His spine felt like it had been realigned into a different language.

Every movement was punished with a full orchestra of pain, as if an immortal had been suddenly shackled into a mortal’s fragile shell.

He tried to breathe—and pain.

He tried to lift an arm—and pain.

He tried to think—and pain.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was humiliation.

He—Lava Scissor, the undying blade, the molten horror, the living calamity—was feeling human pain for the first time.

"How..." he croaked.

His mouth was dry. Lava crackled in his throat.

"How can I... be hurt by a mortal?"

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to him. Not to be forged in the depths of Earth’s most unstable core zone, shaped by magitech and eldritch flesh, blessed by the Infernal Pantheon.

The Pantheon said that if he was thrown into black holes, he would survive. And even dismemberment. Or even if he was swallowed by the atomic breath from dragons.

He cannot be hurt!

So how can he be hurt?

But this... this boy?

This weak little human?

Had hurt him?

His face was scrunched in confused agony, twitching and spasming as he tried to make sense of the sensation coursing through him.

The fractures in his body sang a chorus of torment. His joints were locking. Every movement sent screaming pulses up his core.

No regeneration.

No healing.

Just pure, unfiltered torment.

Elius staggered slightly, standing over him. His breathing had turned ragged. Sweat poured down his temples, clinging to the edges of his robe.

He clenched his fists.

His fingers felt like lead.

His arms were trembling.

"...It’s not dead?" he muttered, panting.

"I thought... it was impossible... to survive that."

And then—

Ding!

A translucent system window slid into view.

[Warning!]

Due to the vast level difference, the host cannot one-shot the enemy.

The Heavenly Earthquake Invincible Slam technique is a high-grade finisher designed to inflict maximum impact and momentum damage.

However, due to the enemy’s tier being four levels above the host, the technique’s maximum lethality is capped to 27.6%.

Status effect: Stun applied.

Bleed applied.

System evaluation: Fatality threshold not reached.

Elius’s heart dropped.

He read it once. Then again.

And again.

"What...?"

The realization hit him like a glacier smashing through his ribcage.

The system wasn’t absolute.

It wasn’t a "press-win-button."

It wasn’t an infinite power loop or some god-mode cheat.

It had rules.

It had limits.

And worst of all—

It had consequences.

More messages appeared, layering over each other like judgment scrolls from heaven.

[Notice:]

User fatigue reaching critical thresholds.

Spiritual energy output declining at 3.6% per second.

Physical integrity at 39%.

Technique: Heavenly Earthquake Invincible Slam (Ongoing Sequence): Will you continue?

Warning: Repeated use may result in muscle tear, tendon rupture, or Qi channel deviation.

Do you wish to proceed?

Elius’s legs felt like logs. His arms were filled with fire. His head was swimming with cold sweat and conflicting signals.

He turned his head slowly to look at Lava Scissor again.

The creature had stopped laughing.

Now its eyes were glowing red. A deep, personal red. The color of vengeance. Of hate. Of wrath.

That was the look of someone who had just been humiliated in front of the world.

Elius understood immediately.

He knew what that face meant.

Lava Scissor wasn’t going to toy with him anymore.

If he got up... he would kill him.

Not just Elius.

But everyone.

And in that moment, something inside Elius snapped.

Without thinking—without asking permission—he grabbed the monster again.

His bones screamed.

His muscles cried.

His Qi veins sparked in agony.

But he lifted Lava Scissor again, like hoisting the corpse of a god.

And he slammed him down again.

BANG!

Another crater.

Another fracture in the earth.

Another explosion of pain in his own body.

His vision blurred. His skin was flushed. Blood trickled from his nose.

[System Warning!]

Killing this enemy may result in ecological destabilization.

Lava Scissor is part of the Infernal Pantheon’s core pillar projects.

Terminating this entity may invoke:

Geological instability across Class-2 fault lines

Awakening of deeper subterranean lifeforms

Infernal retaliation from Lava God Hierarchs

Collapse of volcanic suppression fields

Triggering of Doomsday Level 3 environmental disaster

>>> Do you still wish to continue?

Yes, Elius whispered in his mind, though his lips never moved.

He knew the risk.

He knew the implications.

He knew this wasn’t just about him anymore.

This was global.

The Earth itself could be affected.

And still—he didn’t stop.

Why?

He didn’t understand either.

There was no logic in his heart anymore. Just one singular, growing fire.

One sensation that spread through his mind, his soul, his blood.

Joy.

He was enjoying it.

Enjoying the fight.

The pain.

The challenge.

Fighting something that was supposed to be impossible—and hurting it.

What was wrong with him?

He didn’t know.

But he felt alive.

More alive than he’d ever been.

He was grinning.

His teeth were bared.

His golden aura flared even brighter.

His hair began to glow—each strand turning brighter and brighter until it shimmered like blazing sunlight.

Almost translucent. Ethereal.

Is this still the system?

Golden strands floating upward, as if gravity had decided he was too bright to be held down.

Ron, Lina, Klee, and Shiro could only watch as Elius stood above a dying god, trembling with laughter, his form now bathed in something more than just Qi.

It was as if a star had possessed him.

Until—

A voice cut through the battlefield.

Calm.

Powerful.

Familiar.

It echoed across the cracked earth, silencing the burning air and golden winds.

"That’s enough."

Elius’s head turned slightly, eyes still wild.

A figure was stepping into the field.

But he didn’t recognize the silhouette.

Not yet.

And yet—the moment that voice echoed—

The system froze.

Every notification window vanished.

Every warning stopped.

Time seemed to pause.