Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 60: Proof

Chapter 60: Proof

Elius’s eyes widened slightly. B-Rank? Here?

This wasn’t just a mistake.

This was a disaster waiting to happen.

Behind him, the sound of footsteps and chatter grew fainter as the rest of the class walked forward. Elius didn’t move.

Back in the crowd, Rockson turned his head to make a joke, but blinked when he noticed someone was missing. He turned again, scanning.

"Huh? where’s Elius?" he asked aloud.

A few others looked back.

He spotted him near one of the dimensional rift gates, standing completely still, hand on the surface like he was lost in a trance.

Rockson frowned. "Elius?"

No response.

"Hey! Elius!"

Still nothing.

Now others were looking too. Whispers and murmurs rose up. The group slowed, some halting.

Even the guide turned, confused.

"Who’s shouting?" he barked. "What’s going on?"

Rockson pointed. "It’s Elius. He’s back there."

The guide squinted. "What’s he doing?"

"I—I don’t know. He’s not answering."

The guide groaned and began walking back. Several students followed, curiosity piqued. All eyes turned to the boy who stood with his hand against a dormant rift, staring into nothing like he could see through dimensions.

When the guide finally reached him, he placed a hand on Elius’s shoulder. "Hey. Kid. Elius, right? What’s wrong?"

Elius didn’t react immediately. He was still staring at the system screen. At the words B-Rank. At the warning.

His heart wasn’t beating fast, but something inside him was tight. Heavy.

Should I say it? he wondered. Will they believe me?

He glanced sideways. Students. Curious eyes. Some already doubting. Some amused.

He could say nothing. Walk away.

But what if they sent someone else here? A beginner? Someone not even aware of what they were walking into?

What if someone died because I kept my mouth shut?

He thought of the Academy.

He thought of all the smiles, the first-time heroes-to-be, the excitement buzzing in their laughter.

Then he thought of tentacles. Water. Suffocation. Screams no one could hear under a sea of writhing limbs.

His jaw tightened.

"It’s a B-ranked dimensional rift," Elius said quietly.

The guide blinked. "What?"

Elius turned to him, voice firmer. "This rift. It’s not F. It’s B."

The students nearby went quiet.

The guide raised a brow and folded his arms. "Kid... you do realize where we are, right? This is the F-Class hub. There are protocols. No B-ranks could have gone undetected. You sure you’re not making assumptions based on a weird gut feeling?"

Elius looked him dead in the eyes. "It’s B-ranked."

"How would you know?"

"I can prove it."

That sentence silenced even the whispers.

The guide narrowed his eyes. "Prove it how?"

Elius hesitated. He couldn’t explain the System. Not here. Not to them. But he could do something else—he could recreate the Qi injection, show them the reaction, maybe even have someone else feel the resonance.

Before he could speak again—

"What is going on here?"

A sharp, clear voice cut through the air.

Everyone turned.

A figure approached from down the corridor—white coat, sleek boots, visored eyes, glowing tablet in hand.

One of the Riftses.

She was older than the students but younger than the guide, maybe in her thirties. Sharp posture, razor-cut black bob, and eyes that didn’t tolerate nonsense.

"Why aren’t you moving?" she asked, scanning the crowd. "You’re blocking Rift Lane 7. That’s a hazard."

The guide straightened and stepped forward.

"We’re... there’s an issue. This student claims this rift—#207—isn’t F-ranked. He says it’s B."

The Riftse tilted her head, looking intrigued rather than annoyed.

"B? That’s impossible."

She turned to Elius.

"And you are?"

"Elius."

She crossed her arms, visor blinking faintly. "And how do you know this?"

Elius stared at her, his face blank, but inside, his mind was a whirlwind.

What should I do?

He had declared the dimensional rift was B-ranked, but now one of the Riftse researchers had arrived, and she didn’t believe him. The guide looked skeptical. The students stared. No one took him seriously.

He clenched his jaw.

Think. Think. If this was the game, how would I prove it?

Then it came to him.

The sword.

The system had acknowledged his sword-controlling Esper ability as a cultivation technique. That meant his flying swords weren’t just weapons—they were extensions of his Qi. They had instincts now. A refined version of his spiritual intent flowed through them, even if others didn’t see it that way.

"I can show you," Elius said finally, voice calm.

The Riftse woman raised a brow. "Show us what?"

Elius didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he raised his hand. With a flick of his fingers, a brilliant flash of light shimmered in the air beside him.

CLINK—SHING!

A sword appeared, floating in the air with an elegant hum. Thin, silver, with an ethereal glow, the blade hovered beside Elius like a loyal guardian. The students gasped. Even the guide took a step back.

The Riftse narrowed her eyes. "An Esper weapon?"

Elius nodded. "It’s my sword. I call it when I need it. But it’s more than just a tool—it reacts to danger. The stronger the threat, the harder it resists going forward."

He turned toward the rift gate. "Watch."

With a thought, the sword darted forward.

It glided gracefully through the air, cutting through the silence like a silver needle. It approached the gate to Rift #207... but as it came within ten meters, it shuddered—HUMMMMMMMM!—and halted midair. It trembled, resisting.

Elius furrowed his brow.

"Closer."

The sword tried.

Buzz! It stalled, unable to push further.

The students muttered amongst themselves. Rockson leaned forward, mouth open. The guide looked confused.

Elius continued, his voice unwavering. "When the sword senses danger, it stops. It’s not about force or barriers—it’s about instinct. When it senses spiritual imbalance, chaotic resonance, or death aura, it refuses to get closer."

He stepped forward and pointed at the sword, still hovering in place. "This reaction only happens when the danger exceeds my own current rank. If it were truly an F-ranked dimensional rift, the sword would fly straight through. But it’s stopped—even this far."

He turned to the Riftse. "This is a B-ranked dimensional rift."

She crossed her arms and scoffed, expression unchanging. "Impossible."

Elius frowned. "What?"

The Riftse shook her head. "We’ve already scanned this rift. Every known method—tech-based, esper-based, psychic resonance, magical fluctuations, even time dissonance detectors. The results were consistent: F-ranked. Mild mana leakage. Stable dimensional frequency. No spatial tearing. No abnormal psychic interference. It’s one of the safest rifts we’ve cataloged today."

She took a step forward, tapping her tablet. "See this? Thirty-two hours ago, we ran six back-to-back scans. Not a single anomaly. It’s giving off the same energy pattern as a level-three mutant insect nest. Barely dangerous."

Elius looked at the sword still trembling in the air.

The Riftse continued. "Whatever your sword is reacting to, it’s not the rift. Either your system is miscalibrated, or you’re getting false readings. It happens sometimes. Devices can be wrong."

He clenched his fists.

Was she right?

He looked at the dimensional rift again. At the faint hum. At the thick air near its entrance. The smell of salt. The subtle weight pressing against his skin.

It didn’t feel like a lie.

But if no one would believe him...

Elius closed his eyes.

Then said flatly, "Fine. But if someone gets hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

He recalled his sword with a flick of his wrist—SWOOSH!—and it vanished.

Without waiting for a reply, he began walking forward to catch up with the rest of the group.

But just as he passed another rift, a different voice spoke up.

"Wait a second!"

He turned.

A second Riftse woman—blonde, shorter, with thick glasses and oversized sleeves—was approaching, excitement practically radiating off her.

She pointed at him, eyes shining. "Are you... are you Elius? Elius the Sword Immortal?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

She squealed. "Oh my god, it is you! You’re the one who got acknowledged by Radiant Man, right?!"

He hesitated. "...Yeah."

She jumped. "Kyaaa! I knew it! I saw the broadcast! When Radiant Man stepped out of nowhere and declared that you might be the only one in the next generation who can hurt him—I screamed! Like, literally screamed!"

The students behind her looked at one another awkwardly, trying not to laugh. Rockson grinned.

She took another step closer. "What’s it like? Huh? What does it feel like to be acknowledged by the NUMBER ONE SUPERHERO IN THE WORLD?! Do you feel pressure? Or excitement? Did you cry? Wait—do you train every day? How did you get your sword to float like that?! Can you teach me?! Can I shake your hand?! Can I get a picture?!"

She was bouncing on her heels like a kid at a birthday party.

Elius scratched his head, feeling a sweat drop form. "Uh... I guess it’s alright?"

The first Riftse woman—the strict one—watched the scene in stunned silence. Her composure cracked just slightly. "Wait... what did you say?"

The excitable Riftse turned with wide eyes. "He’s the kid from the Orientation Ceremony yesterday. You didn’t see? Radiant Man publicly acknowledged him! Called him a future rival or something!"

The older Riftse furrowed her brow and looked back at Elius. "You’re that student?"

Elius nodded once.

"Hmm..."

She didn’t say more, but her gaze lingered. Longer than before. Deeper.

The energy around her changed, just slightly.

Meanwhile, the blonde Riftse kept beaming. "You’re sooo cool! Wait—do you have an online profile? Can I follow you? Can I join your fan club if someone starts one? Wait, I’ll start one if nobody else has!"

Elius took a slow step back. "Um... thanks. But..."

He looked at the rest of the students, now watching him like he had grown another head.

He sighed and gave a small bow.

"Excuse me. I need to go somewhere first."

And with that, he turned around, walking away with practiced calm.

Behind him, the first Riftse woman watched in silence, her eyes narrowed—not with suspicion.

But with curiosity. Depth. Interest.

She didn’t say anything.

She just kept watching his back as it disappeared into the flickering hallway light.