<div> Chapter 126: Dragging all
 But Elius’s voice drifted over like a whisper and a knife all at once. "It doesn’t matter who handles it."
 And then—shink—three of the floating swords behind him lifted. Each one humming with faint runes along their silver edge. They weren’t spinning. Not yet. But they vibrated with controlled tension, like arrows pulled taut against the string of an unseen bow.
 They shot forward—BOOM!
 Three streaks of light crossed the distance in a blink, targeting Fraven, still half-weak and exposed.
 Zhark’s eyes widened. "Tch—!"
 Lightning exploded from his hands. A ring of pure current erupted around them. With both hands thrust forward, Zhark let his power surge in full, sending a field of plasma arcing upward like a cyclone. The electricity crashed into the oncoming swords, halting their movement.
 But barely.
 The swords spun mid-air, rotating furiously, trying to break through. Sparks flew as lightning clashed with steel. Zhark grunted, his muscles flexing, veins bulging, mouth twisted in a snarl. Each second the blades pushed, his field weakened.
 "Hold—damn it—HOLD!" he shouted, pouring more energy into the vortex.
 The ground beneath him cracked. Pavement turned to glowing glass. The nearby rubble began to float from static charge.
 But still—the swords kept spinning.
 Fraven was on one knee, looking up at the whirling chaos above him, gasping. "Zhark..."
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 </div> "Don’t talk!" Zhark bellowed. "I’ve got it!"
 But then—
 FWUMP!
 Two more swords blinked into existence.
 Elius hadn’t moved.
 The two swords hovered behind the first three. And before even a word could be spoken, they shot forward, weaving through the very arc of the first conflict.
 "DAMN YOU!" Zhark screamed, trying to shift his current—but it was too late.
 SWISH—SWOOSH!
 The two surprise swords streaked like demons straight toward them. Zhark caught one—barely—his lightning redirecting the blade mid-flight and slamming it into a nearby boulder.
 BOOOOM!
 The rock shattered like an egg.
 But the other—
 It went straight for Fraven.
 Fraven’s eyes widened. He raised one hand, tried to muster a piece of debris with his telekinesis—anything—but his energy had long since run dry. Blood poured from his nostrils again. His hand trembled.
 The blade screamed through the air like a silver comet, glowing faintly blue from the friction. There was no stopping it.
 And then—
 PING!
 At the last moment, something collided with the sword—deflected it.
 The sword veered off, slicing through a streetlight and embedding itself in a cracked billboard.
 Fraven gasped, spinning his head to see—
 Standing in front of him, arm extended, was Keith.
 Silent, still, eyes shadowed beneath his bangs.
 The young man had appeared without warning. He hadn’t even made a sound. His uniform was untouched, but his boots were scuffed, and his fingers trembled ever so slightly.
 He looked at the blade that had nearly taken Fraven’s head—and then turned to Elius.
 A small smile curved Elius’s lips.
 Keith looked down at Fraven.
 Then back to Elius.
 And finally, he said, his voice low and clear, "Let me join... the thing you’re calling a party."
 From afar, Shania stood atop a crumbled rooftop, watching with a cold smirk curling on her lips.
 Her black coat flapped in the wind, strands of violet-tinted hair whipping across her face.
 The scene unfolding below was more than she could’ve hoped for—Zhark and Fraven standing, albeit wounded and exhausted, and Keith now stepping forward, calmly, willingly, like a warrior preparing for his final march.
 For her, this meant only one thing: Elius was the real deal.
 Zhark, his arms crossed and electricity crackling faintly over his shoulders, let out a breath. "So, Keith moved."
 Fraven exhaled, still sitting on the ground with one knee up, blood still running down his side. "That confirms it. This guy isn’t just another rookie hero... he’s a predator."
 Zhark’s eyes didn’t leave Keith. "And Keith stepping up like that... means he’s taking this seriously."
 But despite the moment of confidence among them, a strange dripping sound echoed through the broken street.
 Drip.
 Drip.
 It was soft, but unnatural, unnerving.
 All three—Zhark, Fraven, and Shania—froze.
 Keith’s brows furrowed.
 The sound was close... far too close.
 He turned his hand over slowly, instinctively.
 His fingers... felt wet.
 He blinked.
 And then the sting came.
 It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even overwhelming.
 But it was real.
 A sharp, burning itch at his elbow, like a hot needle piercing through numb skin.
 He looked down.
 Red.
 Real blood.
 His blood.
 Fraven’s breath caught in his throat.
 Zhark’s jaw dropped.
 Shania’s smirk twisted into a startled grimace.
 Keith... was bleeding.
 That couldn’t be.
 He never bled.
 Keith took a step back, eyes wide, staring at his wound as if he were staring at an alien object attached to his body.
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 </div> This wasn’t just a paper cut. This wasn’t a scratch.
 He bled. And the blood didn’t stop dripping.
 Drip.
 Drip.
 For years, no one had been able to hurt him. Ever. Not the top-tier Espers. Not elementalists.
 Not the Phantom Reaper. Not even the immortal vampire, who had personally tried to suck the life from his jugular only to have his fangs shatter against Keith’s skin like porcelain against steel.
 Keith’s body was a fortress—Solarion blood granted a divine-level defense, one of the absolute pinnacles among all Esper lineages.
 Even pain was a foreign sensation to him. His skin naturally repelled metaphysical force.
 Even internal attacks were dulled by his body’s strange spiritual affinity.
 Yet now... he was hurt.
 And it wasn’t by a forbidden spell, or a divine weapon.
 It was a scratch from a sword.
 His gaze slowly turned to Elius.
 Elius stood still, serene, as if carved from cold marble.
 And then—he smiled.
 A genuine, bright, excited smile, like that of a child discovering a new toy.
 "I see," Elius said softly. "So it works after all."
 Keith didn’t speak.
 Elius took a slow step forward, his hands behind his back. In his head, he was thinking, "Spiritual Qi. It wasn’t just theory. It really does bypass the innate aura of a Solarion descendant."
 Fraven gritted his teeth. "You—how did you hurt him?"
 Elius tilted his head at Keith.
 "What’s wrong?" he asked. "Is this... your first time being hurt?"
 The words hit like thunder.
 Zhark’s eyes twitched.
 Fraven tried to stand, only to slump back to one knee.
 Keith... said nothing.
 But he was trembling.
 Not from fear. Not from anger.
 But from the sheer unknown.
 Then, suddenly—
 A presence flared behind Shania.
 Her instincts screamed.
 She tried to move, but a soft whisper brushed her ear. "Too late."
 A golden-haired figure in Elius’s exact uniform, face partially hidden by shadows, stood right behind her.
 Five floating swords hovered inches from her neck, perfectly still, yet each humming with condensed Qi, blades nearly invisible from their speed.
 Blood trickled down her throat where the tips kissed her skin.
 Elius—the real one—glanced over and nodded.
 A second voice echoed from behind Shania, identical to Elius’s. "Will you join the party... or die at the hands of my clone?"
 Zhark’s body snapped to attention. "What?! He—he has a clone?!"
 Fraven stood fully, panic etched in every line of his face. "No. No, no no! That’s not normal! Espers don’t do that!"
 Keith turned, the blood on his arm now forgotten.
 A clone? With control over swords, independent spiritual pressure, and nearly undetectable presence?
 Impossible.
 Shania, usually the coolest of the crew, now stood paralyzed. She could feel each blade slightly pushing deeper with each breath she took. One wrong move, and she knew her head would be off her shoulders.
 "Tell me," Elius said from the ground below. "Are you joining?"
 The swords inched deeper.
 One even drew a thin stream of crimson along her throat.
𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚 "Yes!" Shania shrieked. "Yes! Don’t kill me! I’ll join! Just—just call off your damn clone!"
 The swords backed away instantly.
 The golden-haired clone stepped back in silence, then turned to look at Elius, awaiting his next order like a puppet.
 Shania collapsed to her knees, gasping, her pride shattered in a breath.
 Keith, Zhark, and Fraven all stared at Elius now—not with fear, not with awe—but with something far more primal.
 Dread.
 And then—
 Elius chuckled. "Let’s go."
 He reached a hand to the sky and tore a rift open with a flick of his finger.
 A swirling black portal, filled with the sound of whispering wind and flickering runes, gaped open above the cracked street.
 Without hesitation, Elius stepped into it, and with a sound like folding space, he vanished.
 Shania, still trembling, was next. The portal yanked her in like gravity.
 Then Zhark, gritting his teeth, spat to the ground and followed.
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 </div> Fraven cursed under his breath—"God damn it all"—and disappeared through.
 The rift flickered.
 And yet—Keith still stood outside it.
 Unshaken.
 The rift didn’t try to pull him.
 His Solarion blood resisted it by nature.
 He looked at his still-bleeding arm.
 Then at the dark vortex waiting for him.
 Then at the space where Elius had been.
 The corners of his lips curled upward—not in fear, not in resignation—but in interest.
 He stepped forward, calm as ever.
 And walked into the rift.</div>
 

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Chapter 126: Dragging all

Chapter 126: Dragging all But Elius’s voice drifted over like a whisper and a knife all at once. "It doesn’t matter who handles it." And then—shink—three of the floating swords behind him lifted. Each one humming with faint runes along their silver edge. They weren’t spinning. Not yet. But they vibrated with controlled tension, like arrows pulled taut against the string of an unseen bow. They shot forward—BOOM! Three streaks of light crossed the distance in a blink, targeting Fraven, still...

Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy

Chapter 126: Dragging all

Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy - Chapter 126: Dragging all