Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 94: Fame

Chapter 94: Fame

Elius hadn’t expected anyone to notice him. He had dampened his presence so well that even the insects buzzing near the window had avoided his area.

So when the voice rang out—sharp, assertive, real—his golden eyes blinked in genuine surprise.

"...What?"

He looked to the side.

The girl with the electric-blue bangs and freckled cheeks was still there, standing firm, pointing down at the seat like it was her throne.

"That’s my seat," she repeated.

There was a moment of awkward silence. A flicker of tension.

Elius considered his options.

A flicker of Qi could freeze her muscles, or subtly warp her perception so she forgot. But... no. He didn’t need conflict. Not now. He had too many eyes around, and too many unknown variables.

He sighed inwardly.

Then, slowly, he nodded. "My apologies," he said with a respectful tone.

His voice was calm. Polite. Almost noble. He stood from the chair with grace that didn’t quite belong in a classroom—like a prince rising from a throne to greet a commoner.

But as he did...

The girl’s mouth fell open.

Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.

And then—

Her entire body froze.

Like a statue carved from marble. Still. Pale. Trembling.

Elius tilted his head slightly.

"...Are you okay?"

He took a careful step back, uncertain. Did something happen? Was she cursed? Poisoned?

A flicker of paranoia rushed through his thoughts. Had someone targeted him again? Was this some latent side effect of the dimensional wormhole travel from earlier?

But before he could reach any conclusion, the girl took a step back, clutching her chest.

And then—

She shrieked.

A piercing scream, so loud and sudden that it echoed off the reinforced titanium walls of the classroom like an alarm siren. Every student jolted.

Papers flew. Pens clattered to the floor. Even Captain Grit paused mid-sentence, his hand frozen in the air.

All eyes turned.

The freckled girl pointed at Elius with both hands, eyes bulging, voice cracking.

"SOO HANDSOOOOOOOOOOME!!!"

Then—pomf—she fell backward, eyes turned into swirls and hearts as she crumpled to the ground like a broken toy doll.

Silence.

Absolute, cosmic silence.

As if the world itself stopped breathing.

Every breath. Every blink. Every heartbeat.

Paused.

And then...

It began.

First, a slow murmur.

Then a gasp.

Then a tremor in the air.

And then—

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

The girls in the room erupted like a volcano of chaos and fangirl hysteria.

"Oh my GOD—who IS that?!"

"Did you SEE his face?!"

"Those eyes! They’re like... molten sunlight!"

"Wait, wait, wait—his hair is glowing?! It’s not just blonde, it’s divine platinum!"

"It’s like silk from the heavens! Woven by angels!"

"AND THAT SKIN! Flawless! Porcelain moonlight! I’d die for that jawline!"

"Did anyone see the way he moved?! Like a waterfall wrapped in thunderclouds!"

"He apologized! With manners! Like an actual noble! Is he royalty?!"

"No, no—he’s not royalty, he’s a fallen god in disguise, walking among mortals!"

"I swear I just ovulated."

"I swear I just ovulated and I’m a guy."

"I’M GONNA FAINT—CATCH ME!"

Elius stood there, completely still, and for the first time in a long time, actually stunned.

He was used to drawing attention. Sure. Cultivators were supposed to be graceful, poised. But this was different. This wasn’t reverence for power. This was something else entirely.

He could feel the weight of their stares.

The intensity of their admiration.

Their... hormonal tsunami.

One girl up front was now scribbling frantically in her notebook.

"I will become the perfect wife. I will train my cooking skills to max level. I will win his heart."

Another was already sketching fanart.

"I must record this ethereal being before my memory fades."

Meanwhile, a third was sobbing into her sleeve.

"Why... why was I born at the same time as him? It’s not fair... I’m not worthy..."

Even the emotionally-void goth girl with black lipstick and a pentagram earring was muttering to herself.

"...I’d let him haunt me for eternity."

The shyest girl in the room, the one who never made eye contact, had fainted face-first into her textbook.

A puddle of blood slowly spread beneath her nose.

Elius took a hesitant step back. His instincts told him to run. This was danger. A different kind of battlefield. There were no swords here, but the battlefield was lined with screaming voices and melting stares.

He didn’t even dare make eye contact anymore.

Meanwhile, the boys—

Oh, the boys.

They were frozen too. But not with adoration. With a complex mix of confusion, envy, despair, and the bitter taste of sudden irrelevance.

One of them was gripping his chair so hard it cracked under his fingers.

"That’s not fair," he whispered hoarsely. "That’s not even human."

"Bro, I just spent two hours gelling my hair," another boy muttered, voice hollow. "What’s the point of anything anymore?"

One freckled chubby kid near the middle row just dropped his sandwich and said, "I was gonna confess to Reina today. But now..."

He stared at the floor.

"...now I just want to live in a cave."

Another gritted his teeth. "He’s probably weak. Probably some poser. Looks like he can’t even lift."

One of the cooler guys, the one wearing shades inside, took them off and stared at Elius for a full ten seconds.

Then sighed. "Damn. He even makes my insecurities feel insecure."

The room was chaos incarnate.

Even Captain Grit blinked several times, rubbing his temple.

He mumbled under his breath. "I fought a dragon made of temporal fire once. This might be worse."

As Elius tried to sit back down, one of the desks just gently slid away on its own. As if rejecting the honor of holding his body.

He had to exert a small force of will to stop the spiritual pressure from rising again.

And then, through the cacophony of whispers, cries, sketching, swooning, and defeated masculinity—

A voice cut through like a blade.

"Wait..."

Everyone turned.

A tall boy stood up. Sharp chin. Broad shoulders. Hair like burning coal.

He squinted at Elius.

"...Aren’t you on TV?"

Elius turned to look at him.

The room collectively gasped again.

"Wait, wait—he’s not just on TV," the boy continued, voice rising with disbelief. "I swear, I saw his footage! You know, the one in the orientation dungeon—he fought that F-ranked villain, what was his name again... the guy who melted walls and cut buildings with magma!"

"Lava Scissor?" another student gasped.

"YES! That’s it! Lava Scissor! He beat him! And he wasn’t just fighting—he humiliated him!"

A ripple tore through the class like thunder echoing through the mountains.

And then—

"OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT!" one girl screamed. "He’s that guy! He’s the Sword Immortal! That’s what they called him on HeroNet!"

"Sword Immortal?! THE Sword Immortal?! The one that Radiant Man personally acknowledged during the ceremony?!"

"No way! No freakin’ way! That was just a rumor!"

"I saw the clip on GigaNet! He didn’t just beat Lava Scissor—he cut through molten rock with a floating sword! SEVERAL FLOATING SWORDS!!!"

"There were, like, ten slow-motion replays, and he didn’t even blink!"

"Wasn’t he surrounded by lava at the time?! And didn’t Lava Scissor shout that no water spell could hurt him?! And then this guy—this guy right here—just raised his hand and shhhring! The dude exploded into molten chunks!"

"HE DIDN’T EVEN MOVE FROM HIS SPOT!"

"No, he definitely uses his sword using both hands but his flying sword control is awesome!"

"THERE WAS NO WIND AND THE SWORD MOVED ANYWAY!"

"Like some divine weapon obeying a god!"

"I read the article breakdown. It said he might be using a new form of Esper Weapon Telekinesis!"

"Wait! Someone said Radiant Man looked shocked when he saw the sword!"

"He even said something like—’Only he can hurt me now.’ That’s what Radiant Man said, I remember!"

The atmosphere turned electric.

Every voice layered over another.

Faces leaned in.

Chairs scraped as students stumbled over themselves to get closer to Elius. It was like a storm of adoration, confusion, and pure hero-worship frenzy.

Some were already pushing desks aside to get near him.

Others were climbing over benches just to get a better look.

It was as if a K-pop god had descended into a high school.

"Is it really you?!" someone asked, breathless.

"Can I take a selfie with you?!"

"HOW did you make the sword float?!"

"Wait! How did you hurt Lava Scissor?! He’s immune to water attacks! And your sword didn’t even glow like an enchanted blade!"

"Did you use some magic? Or some kind of reverse elemental law manipulation?!"

"Can you teach me how to do that sword thing?! PLEASE?! I’ll pay!"

"Are you joining the Hero League after graduation?!"

"Do you have a girlfriend?!"

"Do you like blondes?! No—wait—what’s your type?!"

"Do you have a fan club yet?!"

"I’ll make the fan club!"

"I ALREADY MADE A FANPAGE!"

More and more students closed in, half in disbelief, half in worship.

Elius blinked.

He was, quite literally, surrounded.

His previous plan to hide and avoid attention had now completely exploded in his face. He looked left—admiration. He looked right—worship. He looked behind—tears and gasps.

All from a simple apology and one shriek.

How fragile this illusion of anonymity had been.

A boy held out his notepad. "Please, just write your name! Just—anything!"

"Was it true you didn’t even flinch when the lava almost reached your boots?!"

"Were you born with sword powers? Or did you train in secret?"

Elius finally raised his hand.

The class quieted.

A strange ripple passed through them again. Like his simple gesture commanded absolute attention.

He cleared his throat.

"Well," he said.

His voice was calm.

Deep.

Resonant.

And devastatingly beautiful.

"...It’s me."