Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy -
Chapter 78: Cultivation Gu technique
Chapter 78: Cultivation Gu technique
Elius stood over the collapsed body of the Hive Queen, her mountainous corpse twitching slightly as the last remnants of life ebbed from her broken shell.
Steam still rose from the deep cracks that lined her carapace, and her wings, once buzzing like chainsaws, now hung limp and torn, dragging across the dust in ragged folds.
He breathed slowly.
His chest rose and fell, but the fatigue hadn’t reached him yet.
Not truly.
It was too soon for exhaustion.
His mind still raced, and his heart still hummed with the aftershocks of battle.
As he stared at the Queen’s corpse, one thought echoed again and again in his head:
That’s it?
He didn’t expect a monster this big to fall due to exhaustion. But he could feel it. Her energy had begun draining ever since she swallowed the mummy.
Her rhythm had slowed. Her strikes had lost precision.
When they finally broke through her armor, it wasn’t just their power—it was her weakness that allowed it.
Maybe the mummy had done more than they realized before getting eaten.
He blinked slowly.
Then, behind him, three simultaneous thuds echoed across the ruined battlefield.
Clint dropped onto his back, breathing heavily with both arms spread wide.
His pistols clattered to the ground beside him. His gloves were burned at the fingers, and one of his lenses had cracked.
"Holy... hell," he muttered. "It’s over. Right?"
Balkan crumpled next, falling onto his knees. His worms were retreating into the holes they came from, sluggish and twitching.
Sweat poured down his messy head, and his armor was scorched and half-melted at the shoulders. He didn’t speak. He just groaned and collapsed onto his side.
Monkaar was last. He stumbled, tried to catch his breath, and then simply sat down cross-legged, his fists resting limply on his knees. His beard was half-singed.
He stared at the Hive Queen’s corpse in disbelief, as if expecting her to rise again.
A long silence followed.
A very long silence.
The kind of silence that stretched like molasses. Thick. Heavy. Complete. It wasn’t awkward—it was earned. The kind of silence only people who’d stared death in the eyes could share.
Even the sound of dripping acid had stopped.
The crackle of burning hive walls had dulled.
It was just the faint whistling wind from above—no longer a high-pitched screech but soft, almost like a sigh.
Elius stood there quietly, arms crossed behind his back, watching them without saying anything. His expression was calm, though his eyes darted back to the Hive Queen now and then.
Then—
"PFFFFT—AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
Clint broke.
He laughed.
Hard.
Balkan raised his head, snorted, and joined in. Monkaar let out a chuckle, deep and raspy, before throwing his head back and howling in victory.
Clint clutched his stomach, wheezing between laughs. "We... we just killed a Hive Queen! An actual—final-boss looking—giant centipede death monster! AHHHH, man, no one’s gonna believe this!"
Balkan pounded the ground with one hand. "I thought I was gonna die when it bit my Dreadworm in half!"
Monkaar rolled onto his side, still laughing. "You screamed like a baby when it did! I thought it bit you!"
"Shut up, I was acting! Dramatic effect!"
Elius didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward slightly.
Clint turned to the others. "Guys... seriously. This is it, right? Final room. Final boss. That’s it, isn’t it?"
Balkan looked around, squinting at the molten walls and shattered hive floor. "Yeah... yeah, it has to be. There’s nothing left. We cleared it."
Monkaar nodded. "We just... cleared a dungeon."
Another beat of silence. Then Clint said, "Dude... we’re sidekicks."
"Were sidekicks," Balkan corrected, grinning.
"Yesterday," Clint said, "we were sidekicks. A day ago. Like, doing errands. Training exercises. Picking up trash."
"Washing toilets," Monkaar added.
"Yeah! And now? Now we’re in a classified dungeon. We killed insect monsters. We fought side by side with a Sword Immortal. We lived."
They all looked up at Elius.
Clint sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, and then grinned.
"This is all thanks to you, Elius."
Balkan nodded. "Yeah. If you hadn’t taken us in... we wouldn’t have even made it past the first room."
"You gave us a shot," Monkaar said. "You believed in us."
Clint pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his coat.
"Honestly," he said, "I don’t know what to call you now. You’re no student. You’re not just some strong Esper, either."
Balkan and Monkaar stood beside him.
The three of them faced Elius, then bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Sword Immortal Hero."
Elius blinked.
He hadn’t expected that. Not the title. Not the gesture. Not the sincerity.
He looked away, his expression unreadable. Then he waved it off.
"You’re welcome," he said quietly. "But don’t thank me."
He turned back to face the dead Hive Queen.
"Thank the F-rank Superheroes instead. They all annoyed me so much I had to get away from them. You three were the escape route."
There was a pause.
Then they all laughed again.
Clint slapped his knee. "That’s... that’s a lame reason if you ask me... but meeting them earlier, it seems you’re truly annoyed with them."
Elius grinned. Just a bit.
Then—he paused.
He tilted his head and stared above the Hive Queen’s massive skull.
Something was glowing.
A flicker of golden light.
A transparent square of runes and spiritual text hovered just above the broken antennae.
He stepped forward, slowly, each footstep crunching over shattered shells and cracked stone.
He reached out, letting his hand brush the edge of the shimmering light.
And then he saw it.
[Cultivation Technique – F Rank]
Type: Insect and Thunder Type
Effect: Can now be cultivated by absorbing magic crystals with Gu attributes.
Elius narrowed his eyes.
A technique that allowed the cultivation of insect-type magic by absorbing magical crystals? He hadn’t seen anything like this in the cultivation scrolls he’d reviewed from the academy archives.
Was this dungeon tied to the ancient techniques lost in the outer realms? Or was it newly formed from the chaotic energies of Earth’s evolving mana grid?
He turned his palm and let the technique absorb into his system.
Ding!
[Cultivation Technique acquired!]
Elius clenched his fist, his eyes glowing faintly.
"A new path..." he murmured.
Behind him, the others were still talking, laughing, catching their breath.
But Elius was already thinking ahead.
He stared at the shimmering runes above the Hive Queen’s body for a long moment after the insect-type Cultivation Technique embedded itself into his soul.
The afterglow faded slowly, sinking into his flesh like water into thirsty soil.
There was a tingle in his meridians, subtle but distinct—like electricity crawling through his veins in a smooth, spiraling rhythm.
He felt it settle into place.
Another Cultivation Technique.
That made two now—two techniques he’d earned at the final moment of two different dungeons.
Just like last time, he thought, stepping away from the Hive Queen’s corpse.
Back in the goblin dungeon... that massive Goblin Lord... when I drove my sword through his green skull, the system gave me a Body Cultivation Technique.
Now this.
A Gu-type technique.
He turned, slowly.
His gaze drifted over to the wrecked battlefield.
The remains of insectoid warriors, fried and split in half.
Clint, Balkan, and Monkaar were still catching their breath, chatting idly, unaware.
Unaware of what else he had just picked up.
Elius moved silently, his steps quick and smooth, sweeping behind the Hive Queen’s shattered throne-like carapace.
There, near the molten edge of her inner chamber, he saw it: a hovering shard of condensed energy.
It shimmered with a metallic aura, blood-red and deep brown, like a volcano’s core fused with ancient stone.
His system pinged.
Martial Skill: Armor Distribution
Type: Earth Type
Rank: Unclassified (Formed by Dungeon Mutation)
Effect: When activated, any attack that hits the user will be evenly distributed across their body. Prevents local damage like broken limbs or pierced organs. Damage is absorbed proportionally across all vital and non-vital regions. Reduces critical injuries.
Elius narrowed his eyes.
Armor Distribution.
He clenched his fists, already imagining it in battle. Spears, claws, blades—he had dodged them all his life. But now? Even if he got hit... he wouldn’t have to fear his arms breaking, his ribs caving, or a blade sliding through his heart.
It was perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t a fiery explosion or a titanic slash that carved mountains. But it was survivability. Efficiency. Practicality.
He smiled faintly.
"Dungeons," he whispered to himself. "Definitely worth it."
Then that smile faded.
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