Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 75: Failed

Chapter 75: Failed

Then Balkan roared. "Attack!"

Elius was startled a little.

The ground in front of Balkan, exploded. His three Dreadworms surged forward, bursting from the soil with sonic tremors.

One coiled around the beetle’s left leg, another slammed its horn toward the underbelly, and the third launched itself directly at the beast’s glowing face.

For a moment, it looked like Balkan’s creatures had the advantage.

Then, everything fell apart.

The massive beetle didn’t resist—it countered.

With terrifying grace, the beetle twisted, swinging one limb in a vicious arc.

BOOM!

One worm was flung through a tree, its body spiraling midair like a snapped rope. It crashed into the distance with a shriek.

The second worm was pierced—impaled—on the beetle’s horn, its body skewered like meat on a spit.

With a flick, it was hurled into the sky, vanishing in the canopy.

The third worm tried to bite down, but the beetle reared back and slammed its entire body downward, crushing the worm beneath its armored weight.

Bones cracked.

The worm wailed, twitching as sparks of electricity danced across its scales.

It was a brutal display.

Like watching an adult beat children.

But not in any kind or merciful way—this was the savage, mechanical precision of a predator who saw nothing in his prey but obstacles to be smashed.

The beetle raised its front legs and stomped, crushing Balkan’s final worm underfoot like a broken twig.

All three were defeated.

Balkan gasped, sweat pouring down his brow.

Clint fired. "Eat this, beetle bastard!"

His six bullets soared—three from each hand, glowing with energy.

They curved through the air with precision, slamming into the beetle’s shell.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

But the shots bounced off like pebbles against steel. Not even a scratch.

Monkaar growled. "Back up!"

He opened his mouth and let out a thunderous sound wave—his signature technique, infused with Earth-vibrating resonance.

The pressure wave hit the beetle dead-on, vibrating its insides, cracking ground beneath it.

And yet—

Nothing.

The beetle simply stood there, like a god above ants, unfazed, unmoved.

Clint, Balkan, and Monkaar stepped back.

All of them were shocked. All of them felt that sinking chill—the taste of fear curling in their throats.

Was this it?

Then Elius stepped forward.

With his hands in his pockets and an almost lazy expression, he said, "Now it’s time to test this."

He lifted a leg and stepped on one of his floating swords, which adjusted to support his weight.

The others turned in shock.

He floated into the air, levitating above them like an emperor overseeing ants.

"I’ll handle it."

"Wait," Balkan said suddenly.

He stepped forward, his voice no longer wild and aggressive, but respectful—almost pleading.

"Sir," Balkan said, lowering his head slightly, "Allow me one more chance. Let me handle it first."

Elius glanced at him.

In Balkan’s eyes, there wasn’t just pride.

There was yearning—yearning to not be a sidekick anymore.

A desire to prove himself, to stand on the same stage as superheroes.

Elius didn’t say anything.

Balkan raised his arms.

His remaining worms—tattered, bloodied, broken—still responded. Horns raised high, trembling with pain, they surged again.

They crashed toward the beetle in perfect sync, their broken bodies glowing with what little strength remained.

But it was useless.

The beetle moved faster this time, less like a beast and more like an executioner.

CRUNCH!

One worm was slammed sideways, jaw broken.

CRACK!

Another was twisted midair, its spine snapping like brittle wood.

SPLAT!

The last was pinned by a leg the size of a tree trunk and crushed into the ground, ichor spraying in a wide arc.

They had never stood a chance.

Although they are not dead, they would die in a split second if they didn’t go deep into the ground to heal.

However, in that moment, the beetle lifted its horn, ready to finish Balkan’s last still moving beast—

Four swords flashed into existence.

CLANG!

The swords struck the horn from four directions—up, down, left, and right—crashing against it with a coordinated strike.

The beetle staggered.

Then—

WHOOSH!

The massive beetle was flung backward, its body spiraling into the air before crashing through two massive trees, splintering them like twigs.

Silence fell.

Clint’s jaw dropped.

Monkaar couldn’t even speak.

Balkan’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

That monster—they had seen how tough it was. How impervious it was. Yet Elius had thrown it back like it was weightless.

They turned to him in awe.

Elius looked down at Balkan.

"Do not be arrogant next time in front of me," he said quietly.

Balkan lowered his head. "Yes... sir."

Clint and Monkaar followed, bowing their heads as well.

They understood now.

This wasn’t just a team. This wasn’t just a senior and juniors.

Elius was on an entirely different level.

He was a superhero.

Elius closed his eyes slowly.

He formed a hand seal.

Not complex—just a simple one. But it was filled with absolute control.

He whispered:

"Sand Tomb."

The air shifted.

Something wrong began to occur beneath the massive beetle.

It staggered, rising slowly from the crater it had made when flung.

But the grass beneath its feet started to wither.

The ground became dry. Arid.

Cracks spiderwebbed outward. Yellow-green blades of grass shriveled and died.

Then—

FWOOOM!

Sand exploded from beneath it.

Pillars of high-density spiritual sand emerged in a circle, each one towering, pressing inward.

They weren’t ordinary sand pillars. Each was condensed into a weight greater than steel, infused with ancient Earth resonance. The air warped around them.

The beetle shrieked and tried to resist, slamming its horn into the pillars.

But the sand didn’t yield.

Instead, the pillars bent like arms.

And closed in.

More sand erupted, swirling with precision, forming not just a cage, but a shape.

A coffin.

A coffin made of sand.

With a final grinding roar, the coffin sealed shut, swallowing the massive beetle in a dense, silent tomb.

Elius hovered above it, eyes calm, body still.

The forest was silent again.

Despite the towering sand coffin sealing tight, enclosing the monstrous beetle in a perfect cube of compressed desert rock, Elius didn’t let his guard down.

He hovered above on one of his flying swords, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

"So... it works just like that?"

His voice was calm, a mere whisper to himself.

BOOM!

The coffin exploded outward in a burst of debris and force.

Shards of sand and dust rocketed through the forest like shrapnel, slicing through trees and dislodging leaves in a whirlwind of chaos.

The massive beetle roared.

Its horn crackled with electricity, and its body was steaming as if its own rage generated heat.

The beast burst forward with monstrous momentum, eyes locked on Elius with primal fury.

Elius didn’t flinch.

Instead, he observed. Coldly. Thoughtfully.

"Should I try weakening it first?" he murmured.

He hovered down slightly, glancing at the others.

"Balkan. Clint. Monkaar," he said. "Weaken it."

They snapped out of their stupor.

"Yes, sir!" Balkan shouted, leaping away backward, and then, the worms would show up again from the ground.

Clint clicked his fingers that are now like pistols, reloading with a flick of his wrists, ready to blast the massive beetle away!

On the other hand, Monkaar clenched his fists, vibrations already rippling through the earth around him.

Elius floated higher, his eyes scanning the beetle’s form like a surgeon dissecting a patient.

"Let’s begin," he muttered.