Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 68: Bet

Chapter 68: Bet

Star-Spangled’s jaw clenched, the edge of his polished red-white cape fluttering behind him as the surge of Elius’s floating swords settled into the background like a halo of quiet defiance.

His pride, his sense of duty, and his ego as the leader of the Vanguard Justice Juniors—all of it burned with restrained fury.

"You arrogant little prick," Star-Spangled hissed.

He turned abruptly, his boots slamming into the concrete with purpose.

He faced the crowd behind him—dozens of young Superheroes, fresh recruits, hopefuls, and veterans alike.

His arms spread wide, voice booming as he shouted with the practiced cadence of a man who’d trained for stage presence as much as combat.

"Am I crazy? Or is this guy actually about to murder four sidekicks in their first week?!"

The crowd rippled, murmurs growing louder.

"He’s got a point..."

"I mean, unexplored dimensional rifts? With sidekicks?"

"Is that even allowed? Can the system detect that?"

"I don’t care if he beat Lava Scissor... that’s not the same!"

"And they don’t even look trained!"

Star-Spangled pressed on, eyes burning as he pointed again at Elius and his mismatched team. "Tell me, am I wrong to say that bringing sidekicks into a completely unscouted Rift is suicide? Am I wrong to say this isn’t bravery—it’s recklessness!?"

More voices joined in.

"He’s right!"

"Elius is gonna get them all killed!"

"This ain’t some anime. People die in unexplored Rifts!"

"They should turn back now!"

One girl near the front even shouted, "This ain’t your playground, bro!"

Laughter burst around her, some nervously, some mockingly. The tide had turned in Star-Spangled’s favor. The logic was on his side, the numbers, the rules.

Even Balkan looked like he wanted to run.

But Elius just raised his hand, calm and unhurried, and the crowd slowly quieted under the weight of his cool, unfazed gaze.

"They won’t die," he said.

Jiro blinked, stunned. "Elius—"

"I said, they won’t die," Elius repeated.

Then, without another word, he moved.

In a blink, he wrapped an arm around Monkaar’s floating midsection, hoisted Balkan by the collar like a sack of bugs, hooked his other hand under Jiro’s shoulder, and yanked Clint by the belt into the air.

"Let’s go."

"W-Wait—!"

"Hold on a second!"

"Dude, what are you—?!"

"No time."

And just like that, he began walking toward the portal like he was dragging along groceries instead of terrified young sidekicks.

The swords hovered in formation around him, flickering with quiet menace.

Star-Spangled raised his hand again, as if to stop him—but Elius halted first.

He turned slowly, his voice carrying across the open Rift field like a blade sliding out of a sheath.

"How about a bet?"

The crowd blinked.

"What?" someone asked.

Elius grinned, wolfish and sharp.

"A bet," he said. "If I bring them back alive... you all owe me fire or earth crystals. Each."

"WHAT?!" the entire crowd roared at once.

"You can’t be serious!"

"Dude, what the hell—?!"

"Fire and earth crystals?! That’s insane!"

"Is he joking?!"

"That’s like weeks of grind!"

"Those things sell for a fortune on the black market!"

Elius didn’t flinch. He nodded slowly. "I’m dead serious."

He tilted his head, looking at the crowd with amused contempt.

"What? You’re all hesitating?" he said, tone dripping with mock surprise. "I thought you just said I was gonna get them all killed? You believe that, right? Then shouldn’t this be the safest bet you’ve ever made?"

Silence again. His words were cutting, cruel, and confident.

He raised his voice, letting it carry over the rising static of the Rift behind him. "Or... could it be... that you’re afraid?"

More murmurs.

Some turned away, some clenched their fists.

Elius chuckled low. "You talk big about honor, about protection, about experience. But when it comes time to put your magic crystals where your mouth is... you freeze. Fire and Earth crystals are hard to earn, aren’t they? Especially if you’re poor. Especially if you’ve been stuck in the same tier for two years with no ranking jump."

More gasps. That hit hard.

Elius tilted his head.

"Or maybe you just know... that even if I’m new, I’m better than all of you."

"Alright, now you’re crossing a line—!"

"Arrogant bastard!"

"You think you’re better than us?!"

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

But Elius just smiled. "Don’t tell me—all of you are scared?"

That hit the crowd like a slap. A whole wave of glares, whispers, and boiling tempers.

Now people were looking at each other with conflicted expressions. It wasn’t about the bet anymore—it was about pride. About ego. About reputation.

And most of all... about whether or not Elius was actually bluffing.

The Vanguard Justice Juniors exchanged glances.

Stealth Juggernaut looked pissed but thoughtful.

Shadow Vixen furrowed her brows, trying to read Elius.

Stonewave cracked his knuckles slowly.

And Star-Spangled clenched his jaw again, grinding his teeth before finally pointing straight at Elius.

"Alright," he said.

His voice was cold and sharp.

"You want your bet?"

The crowd tensed.

"Then you’ve got it. If you and your so-called sidekick ’Dream Team’ make it out of that Rift alive—we pay up."

A hush fell over the field.

Elius turned away slowly, walking toward the dimensional gate with all four sidekicks now flailing and arguing softly in panic.

The swords drifted around him like a ghostly army.

Behind him, the world watched—divided between disbelief and awe.

Inside his head, Elius was grinning like a devil basking in moonlight.

The act had worked—every smug word, every provocation, every exaggerated breath of arrogance—it was all for this.

The bet. This is what I was after.

He could barely hear the murmurs and shouting behind him, drowned beneath the hum of his own thoughts.

All that showmanship had one purpose: to trap them into wagering with him. To make them commit. Now they were hooked.

He turned back, slowly, dramatically, facing the whole crowd again.

"Well then," he said, voice clear and cutting through the charged silence, "now that we all agreed on a bet..."

He spread his arms wide.

"I believe two magic crystals of Earth and Fire type per person isn’t that expensive, right?"

The crowd blinked.

There was silence.

Then, slowly, the murmur returned.

"Two crystals... yeah, that’s doable."

"Still expensive, but I mean, it’s just two."

"He might not make it anyway, so we probably won’t even pay."

"Yeah, it’s only two."

Heads nodded. Whispered agreements. Even some chuckles. The crowd, previously tense and condemning, now softened slightly, as if comforted by the thought that even if they lost, the cost was bearable.

Elius grinned. But he wasn’t done.

He turned—this time toward the Vanguard Justice Juniors.

"I want fifty crystals from your group," he said.

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT?!"

"Fifty?!"

"Are you crazy?!"

Star-Spangled nearly spit his gumshield. "Fifty crystals?! Are you trying to bankrupt us?!"

"That’s robbery!"

"Who the hell do you think you are!?"

Even the crowd turned against him again, voices rising in outrage.

"That’s too much!"

"Is he trying to milk them!?"

"Fifty is insane!"

But Elius only smirked. He reached into his uniform and pulled out his Academy High ID card.

A sleek piece of tech-glass with a holographic projection that hovered slightly above it—like a license, rank display, and system-linked credential all in one.

He held it up, casually, as the sun hit the ID and cast its glowing data over the crowd.

Everyone leaned in. Some with scorn. Some with confusion.

"Is that...?"

"Wait... what’s that line?"

"Is that... a scratch?"

But the Vanguard Justice Juniors narrowed their eyes. Star-Spangled frowned. Shadow Vixen walked forward, eyes fixated on the line.

And then, they saw it.

Not one, but two horizontal golden lines engraved at the side of Elius’s Superhero ID. Not drawn. Not scratched. Engraved.

And those lines meant something.