Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 61: Leaving

Chapter 61: Leaving

For Elius, that was enough. He’d done what he could. Whether they listened or not, he had already warned them.

The timing of the second Rifters’ arrival—her fanatical energy and enthusiasm—couldn’t have been better.

It disrupted the tension perfectly, veering attention away from his ominous declaration.

Her bubbly personality acted like a smoke screen, buying him the room to leave gracefully without further interrogation.

As they moved from one rift to another, Elius decided to test his system further.

He would walk with the group, pretending to casually glance around while discreetly sending his Qi toward each dungeon entrance.

F-ranked... F-ranked again... Hmm... D? Slightly elevated mana flow, but nothing major. Not life-threatening.

The sword inside his body didn’t stir much for most of them.

It was subtle, but every time he reached out with his Qi, the system reacted.

A translucent window would pop up in his inner vision for just a moment—labeling the dungeon with a rank and sometimes even a short descriptor.

[System Analysis]

Dungeon Type: Insect Nest

Estimated Rank: F-

[System Analysis]

Dungeon Type: Dead Forest (Mild Curse)

Estimated Rank: E

[System Analysis]

Dungeon Type: Molten Wormhole

Estimated Rank: D-

He didn’t want to admit it, but the Rifters had done their job well.

They’re good. Scarily good. Most of these dungeons really are F-rank.

A couple E. One or two D at most, but those are barely scratching it. No hidden A-ranks or world-ending catastrophes hiding behind these rifts... at least not today.

A small, reluctant respect formed in his heart for those white-coated researchers. Despite the chaos of this world, they seemed to have the dungeons under control—at least here, in the F-class hub.

After a couple more rifts, they arrived at the last one on the guide’s chart.

Elius sent his Qi toward it lazily.

[System Analysis]

Dungeon Type: Magnetic Depth Ruin

Estimated Rank: F

No reaction from his cultivation Qi. No tension in the air. No warning signs.

This was it.

No more dungeons to check.

He turned around. "I’m done."

The guide blinked. "Huh? Wait—what do you mean?"

"I’ll be leaving now."

The words dropped like a stone into the conversation. Everyone stopped walking.

Rockson stepped forward, confused. "Leaving? Already? But we’ve still got—well—there’s still the rest of the tour! The cafeteria, the observation tower, and the—uh—student lounge for S-class visitors? You said you came for dungeons!"

Elius shrugged. "I found what I needed."

"But how?" someone asked.

"You didn’t even stay long!" another student added.

"Are you bored already?" Rockson frowned.

The guide looked even more flustered. "Wait a minute, Elius. You... You just showed up out of nowhere, declared one of our dungeons dangerous, practically caused a panic, then had a Rifter fangirl explode in excitement over you, and now you’re leaving?"

Elius gave a polite nod.

"I can find you again if I need to. Don’t worry."

"But... how would you even—?"

"Rockson smells like a thousand-mile chicken," Elius said deadpan, without missing a beat.

Rockson’s face turned into a tomato. "W-What does that even mean?!"

Several students laughed, and even the guide cracked a smile. Someone muttered, "Poor chicken guy..." and another girl giggled, "Well, he does have those feet..."

Elius turned his back and gave a half-wave. "Later."

With that, he walked off, ignoring their confusion.

But as he turned a corner and left their view, his shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed.

"...I actually can’t find them again," he muttered to himself.

This training zone was massive. Designed like a labyrinth of its own, each group’s route was randomly generated to avoid overcrowding or interference.

If he wanted to meet them again, he’d have to get lucky again like earlier... or track them somehow.

But he had only said that so they wouldn’t ask him too many questions.

Plus, Elius didn’t need them. What for? He’s got a dad problem, the number one superhero dad. So he had no time for chimichanga with others.

For now, he had something else to do.

—

The sun above the city of F-ranked superheroes began to dip slightly, casting long shadows on the east end of the urban training district.

Elius now walked down the smaller, quieter side of the superhero zone. There were fewer buildings here. Less energy. Less hope.

This was where the rejected dreams gathered—the forgotten heroes and overlooked powers.

The Sidekick Registration and Volunteer Center was built at the corner of a weathered plaza. Its walls were marked with wear and graffiti, and the bright sign outside flickered as if it was tired too.

Elius approached slowly, pulled out a simple black cap from his storage pouch, and tugged it down low over his eyes.

He didn’t want attention.

Not here.

Not now.

This place was crowded. Swarming, even.

Hopeful sidekicks were everywhere—some standing in line, some whispering into terminals, others trying to form pacts with low-ranking heroes.

Most of them looked desperate.

The kind of desperation that came from knowing you weren’t strong enough to survive alone—but maybe, just maybe, you could ride someone else’s path and evolve.

They needed dungeon entry. They needed a party. They needed someone to pick them.

Elius knew that feeling.

In his past life, playing the cultivation game, there had been NPCs just like them—scraping to be chosen by players stronger than them, hoping to be carried through a few rounds of dungeon runs to gain XP and maybe find their own spark.

But here, it wasn’t a game.

Here, death was real.

Elius moved quietly among them, not stopping, not speaking. He kept his eyes low.

He saw some familiar faces.

Ron, the velociraptor Esper, stood at the edge of the crowd, nervously chewing on a piece of dried meat while glancing at his wristwatch. His feet, no longer chicken feet, clawed toes tapped against the tiled floor.

Then it was his turn at the counter. He politely greeted them first, saying, "Hi." Then he asked, "I want a hero analysis again. How many days do I have to wait to try it again?"

The counter attendant replied, "Two days..."

Shiro, the ninja with the living shadow, was leaning against a cracked pillar, arms crossed, as his shadow flickered and whispered beside him.

He would occasionally nod and nod, like they were best pals.

Elius wonder why he’s not accepted as a superhero, this guy has insane fighting prowess.

Lina, the ghost-fused girl, now wore a black scarf and sat in a corner, her expression distant as half her body occasionally flickered into transparency. She would try to touch the air like she was testing something.

And Klee—sweet Klee—the healer with green energy glowing faintly around her palms, was smiling nervously at someone across the room, clutching her application sheet with both hands.

They didn’t notice him.

Elius stood there for a long moment.

"It feels weird—just yesterday, they were having a blast in the goblin dungeon. Oh well... that’s life."

He considered stepping forward.

Should I ask them?

Ask what happened yesterday?

But the words didn’t come.

They weren’t important.

He had other plans. Other things to build. His system, his cultivation, his path forward.

He turned his head slightly, then walked back toward the exit.

Quietly. Calmly. Without being seen.

As he pushed open the door and left the Sidekick Center, a breeze blew against his back, ruffling his coat.

None of them saw him.

But he had seen enough.