Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 64: No worries

Chapter 64: No worries

Elius’ knees buckled.

He staggered forward a step.

The laughter around him still raged like a festival of mockery, echoing in waves—one guy had started beatboxing while others pretended to bow at Elius like cultists.

But Elius...

He was somewhere else.

He wasn’t thinking about them anymore.

He wasn’t thinking about their mockery.

Because none of them—none—understood what was about to descend upon this world.

If Radiant Man acknowledged him...

If he really told him his origin...

Then the Solarion Empire would come.

And unlike in the comic, Elius wasn’t the protagonist.

He wasn’t even supposed to exist.

He wasn’t a Solarion descendant.

Could he even pass?

Would Earth survive if he failed?

No, he thought, panic blooming in his chest like poison.

No, no, no—he cannot. If they come... if they test me... if I fail—

His vision spun.

His breath came in shallow gulps.

Someone said something nearby, maybe another joke, maybe another laugh, maybe just a mock apology—but he didn’t hear it.

He didn’t hear any of them.

Because in his mind, all he saw... was the end of the human race.

Yes, that’s the only thing.

Elius sat in the dust.

Around him, the laughter had started to die down—not because the crowd had grown bored, but because their lungs were exhausted.

A few sidekicks loitered nearby, lingering for one last chuckle, some looking at him with mock pity, as if his world had crumbled and they were his sympathetic bystanders.

A tall girl with horns patted him on the shoulder with the fakest expression of comfort he had ever seen, whispering, "It’s okay, champ. You’ll always have... personality."

Others joined, giving half-hearted "support," but their smirks betrayed their intentions.

Elius didn’t even blink.

He didn’t hear them. He didn’t see them. In his mind, they are all going to die if he fails.

I’m not ready, he told himself, numb. I’m not even close.

His fists clenched on his lap. His thoughts spiraled.

I haven’t mastered even half of what a cultivator needs. I don’t know how to activate Solarion Pride. I have Solarion adrenaline that works like it but it cannot be controlled and incredibly dangerous. I don’t know if I’ll survive the test. I don’t even know if I can—

And then...

A spark lit up in his head.

A breath of fire flickered in the darkness.

Wait... he thought. I can hurt them. Right?

He remembered. The floating swords. The cultivation energy. His Qi-infused blade that pierced straight through the combat dummy’s head during the evaluation, shocking even Professor Boom.

If I can hurt Radiant Man... then maybe I’m not entirely powerless against them.

Hope returned. It was a fragile thing, but it flickered brighter with every breath.

He gritted his teeth and stood up slowly, his legs stiff with anxiety. His mind raced with clarity.

Solarion Pride—the terrifying racial ability that allowed Radiant Man to adapt, overcome, and become stronger the more powerful the opponent.

It was a built-in system of dominance, a perfect feedback loop of strength through survival. If Elius could learn to control that... he wouldn’t need to run. He wouldn’t need to fear.

But first... he needed to be prepared.

He needed more abilities.

He needed skills.

He needed... sidekicks.

His system—the cultivation interface that no one else could see—made it clear.

By forming parties with specific individuals, he could gain access to Martial Skills and Elemental Techniques that mimicked their powers.

So far, with Ron and Lina, he’d gained the ghost step and dragon claw.

What he needed now...

Was Earth and Fire.

Once a party member was registered, he could gain and absorb a Martial Skill even if he disbanded the team.

That meant every new sidekick was a treasure chest waiting to be unlocked.

A new path to survival. And right now, he had his eyes on someone in particular.

Someone who could control sand.

Still surrounded by a small group, the sand controller—Jiro, if Elius remembered correctly—was still chuckling, leaning against the stone bench, recounting the call from earlier.

"And then his mom says, ’Your father’s gonna tell you your origin!’ I swear, man, that sounded like some soap opera twist from Planet Drama—"

Elius walked toward him.

The others turned. Some gave a few giggles. Others raised an eyebrow.

Elius kept walking.

He didn’t say anything until he stood directly in front of Jiro, who blinked at him in mild confusion.

"...Huh? What do you want now, sidekick?" Jiro snorted, waving him off. "Come to cry on my sand shoulder?"

"Let me use you," Elius said flatly.

There was a beat of confused silence.

"What?"

"Your sand," Elius said. "I want to see what you can do. Show me."

Jiro scoffed, confused and mildly offended. "Why the hell would I do that for you?"

Elius didn’t answer. Instead, he raised one hand.

FWIP.

One by one, five swords shot out of thin air, gleaming with ethereal light and Qi energy.

They hovered in formation behind him like a royal procession of death, rotating slowly, humming with power.

Each blade shimmered with spirit-forged edges that whispered through the air.

The entire courtyard fell dead silent.

Even the dust held its breath.

Mouths fell open.

Chins dropped.

Eyes widened.

Elius stared at Jiro, calm and firm. "Because this superhero in front of you might need your power... sidekick."

It was as if someone had dropped a bomb.

The silence cracked.

And then—

"HE’S A HERO?!"

"Wait—WHAT?!"

"Those are flying swords—FLYING. SWORDS!"

"Holy shit! Did those just—float? Is that an Esper? A mage?! What is he?!"

"He’s not a sidekick?!"

"No... he’s—he’s a superhero?!"

"WE’VE BEEN LAUGHING AT A HERO?!"

Chaos erupted.

Shockwaves of disbelief rippled through the crowd.

People began gasping, pointing, whispering, all spinning toward Elius as if he had just peeled off a human disguise to reveal a god.

They couldn’t stop staring.

The same Elius they had mocked, jeered, ridiculed... now stood tall, calm, and with five immortal blades floating at his command.

"Wait—he’s recruiting?" someone blurted.

"Recruiting?! Like... forming a team?!"

"Do you think he needs someone with metal manipulation? I can bend spoons with my brain!"

"I-I have lava breath!"

"I grow rocks from my skin! Like warts, but power warts!"

And just like that, they surged forward.

Like a wave of the undead, they staggered closer, eyes wide with desperation.

The air grew thick with the scent of sweat, awe, and raw hope.

People who had been laughing moments ago now looked like they wanted to kneel.

And that’s when Elius breathed in.

The energy shifted.

BOOM.

A surge of invisible force blasted outward.

Cultivation Qi.

Dense. Ancient. Alien.

Like something that belonged in a martial world, not Earth.

It slammed into their chests and guts. Dozens froze, stumbling back, breath caught in their throats. Some dropped to one knee. Others instinctively braced for impact. The pressure wasn’t crushing—but it promised violence.

Elius’s eyes glowed faintly.

’I was too paranoid of them coming close to me, I should have done this earlier.’

His voice rang out clear and sharp: "Don’t crowd me. My five immortal swords are not for show. If you get too close... they’ll slice before I command them."

No one moved.

He turned slowly, his black school uniform fluttering with the aura, and addressed them all.

"If you want to follow me... only Earth and Fire-types of superpowers."

Silence.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he looked back to Jiro—the sand controller—who hadn’t moved a muscle since the swords appeared.

Elius tilted his head. "Now... tell me," he said calmly. "What exactly... can your sand control do?"

Jiro stood still, sweat trailing down his neck. His eyes darted from one floating blade to another, mouth half-open.

He tried to speak.

No words came out.

Only fear.