Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 65: New team

Chapter 65: New team

Jiro stood nervously in front of the crowd, shifting uncomfortably as the attention fell on him.

Elius narrowed his eyes, arms folded, his immortal swords still floating behind his back like loyal sentinels.

Jiro cleared his throat, raised both arms, and the sands beneath his feet began to shiver slightly.

"Up!"

A moment later, a faint stream of sand circled his ankles like a soft ribbon, rising no higher than his knees.

He lifted one hand and the sand responded, lazily climbing up and forming a shaky circle around his torso. It looked weak.

Wobbly.

Like a child playing with a broken hula hoop.

"That’s it," Jiro said, voice nearly drowned in embarrassment. "It doesn’t go far. I can’t throw it, and it doesn’t block anything either. But... it can spin fast if I really focus!"

Elius didn’t smile. But inside, something clicked.

Martial Skill.

The thought whispered in his mind like a spark.

What if... what if he could find a Martial Skill from the dungeon like that? Through the dungeon, through his cultivation system, what if he could refine it?

Add his sword control to the mix.

Sand as an extension of his sword path, blades wrapped in dust, sliding through the battlefield like a creeping serpent, hidden and deadly.

A grin touched the corners of Elius’s lips.

"You’re in," he said.

Jiro blinked. "I-I’m what?"

"You’re in. You’re the first member."

But in Elius’s mind, he was thinking, ’Let’s see how strong the Martial Skill that the system would give him is, as I would surely take it.’

Gasps echoed.

A small cluster of students looked at each other in disbelief.

Elius turned back to the crowd. "Next. Fire type."

From the chaos, someone stepped forward. A tall, lanky boy with a suspiciously cocky smile. "You want fire? Check this out."

He turned around, crouched slightly—and let out a loud frrppttt! A puff of gas, accompanied by visible heat shimmer, emerged from his backside.

Elius stared. Everyone else burst into laughter.

"...Next."

The boy laughed along, unfazed. "Hey, it’s a heat-based ability!"

"Next!" Elius growled again, already wiping the memory from his mind.

From the crowd, another boy pushed through. His hair was short, spiked, and his jacket was open, revealing a tight sleeveless shirt with the word "BULLET" stitched across the chest.

He pointed a finger forward like a gun and smirked. "Name’s Clint. Clint the Bullet."

Elius raised an eyebrow. "Bullet?"

"You’ll see," Clint said with swagger, curling his thumb back like pulling a trigger. "Raygun!"

Fsssht!

A sudden jet of fire burst from the tip of his finger. Thin, sharp, and hot—it darted a few inches forward before immediately extinguishing. Fast. Precise. But weak.

Still, Elius’s eyes lit up.

With his spirit enhancement, this could evolve. With the cultivation system creating a Martial Skill for Clint, this could be a proper gun—a laser, a cannon, a raybeam that split the sky! He nodded.

Yes, give me more ability that I will take for myself!

"You’re in, Clint."

Clint stood tall and pointed finger-guns at everyone around him. "BOOM! I’m a sidekick now, baby!"

And then the uproar happened.

The first uproar.

The crowd lost it. Exploding like fireworks after years of tension.

"HUHHHH?! HIM?!"

"NO FREAKING WAY!"

"Clint the Finger Gun is IN?! The guy who once failed the fire-safety simulation because he burned his own shoe?!"

"No. This is insane."

"Wait, then... if he got in... can I get in?!"

Dozens of hands shot up. Some screamed over others, shouting random powers.

"I can heat my ears!"

"I make sparks when I sneeze!"

"I can boil water if I touch it for five minutes!"

"I can roast peanuts with my armpits!"

Elius raised his hand.

Everyone silenced.

"Earth or Fire types only," he said, eyes cold. "No exceptions."

A few backed down. Others hesitated.

Then, a man stepped forward.

He smelled... strange. Like compost left under the sun, mixed with the scent of rotting wood and wet leaves. His hair was unkempt, and he held a small jar in one hand filled with squirming creatures.

"I can control bugs," he said.

Elius narrowed his eyes. "Bugs?"

"Earth bugs," the man clarified. "Worms, beetles, burrowers. All the bugs that live and breathe under the ground."

Elius wrinkled his nose. "That’s not Earth. That’s... gross."

But before he could wave him off, the man dropped the jar.

The earth around them trembled slightly as dozens—no, hundreds—of tiny creatures poured out.

They didn’t just wriggle across the ground.

They burrowed—slipping under the soil as if guided by a hive mind. And then—crackkkk!—a section of the ground opened like a yawning mouth.

Not dug. Controlled.

It was as if the bugs themselves shifted the earth, commanding it to part and open like a door.

Elius’s eyes widened.

They don’t dig... they command the earth to move. What the hell? Is this guy seriously a Sidekick? Although these bugs cannot hurt enemies directly, it could be a problem if they’re used in assassination!

"That’s Earth," he whispered. "You’re in."

The second uproar hit like an earthquake.

"NOOO WAY!"

"HIM?! That’s Balkan the Bug-Tamer! He failed every hygiene exam! He sleeps with worms under his blanket!"

"How... HOW do people like this get picked?!"

"He smells like a garbage can left in a volcano!"

Elius didn’t care. He looked past the surface. All he saw was potential.

The crowd was howling. The hierarchy of weird powers had just collapsed.

And then—another voice.

"C-Can I join too?"

Elius turned. It was a tall, skinny boy with dusty clothes and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"What’s your power?" Elius asked.

The boy raised a hand and said proudly, "I can float!"

"...Float?"

"Yes! Only above pure soil though. Not rocks. Not concrete. Not metal. Only fresh, raw dirt."

Elius blinked. "...Show me."

The boy stepped onto a patch of untouched soil and suddenly—he rose. Not high.

Just... a few centimeters. But he floated, weightless, like a balloon trapped at ankle level.

He moved forward slightly, hovering like a slow glider.

It looked ridiculous.

Like a ghost in a sack race.

Still, Elius was intrigued. Was this a form of elemental affinity? Did the soil itself recognize him? Maybe not earth control, but earth symbiosis?

And more importantly, no other Earth or Fire user was stepping forward.

"You’re in," Elius said.

The final explosion of disbelief erupted from the crowd.

"What is HAPPENING?!"

"Monkaar the Floater?!"

"He can’t even go UP!"

"He once got stuck above a sandbox for two hours!"

"HOW is this real?!"

"This guy just got a party made of a sand spinner, a worm whisperer, a finger lighter, and a dirt-floater!"

Elius let them scream.

He didn’t care what they thought.

He turned to his new team. Four of them. All awkward. All looked unsure. All laughed at. All underdogs.

But to Elius, they weren’t weak.

They were variables.

And variables could evolve.

He raised his hand.

"Jiro the Sand Controller. Clint the Fire Bullet. Balkan the Bug Tamer. Monkaar the Floater."

Each of them stood straighter.

"We move now. We’re going to the dungeon. And by the time we come out—"

His swords whirled into the air like a gleaming halo.

"—you could all become heroes."

And with that, Elius turned.

"It is complete," he muttered.

"Let’s go."