A Moment Before The Singus

  What is louder than the Biakind Gorge at night? Nothing. The wind howled through the crevices of the cliffs, yet tonight, that sound of nature was drowned out by the thudding of metal footsteps.

  Thirty elite soldiers from the Red Klitano Bandits formed a perfect circle. They were not amateur bandits; they were among the bandits currently under the northern alliance's protection.

  Their stances were low, their eyes locked on a single point in the center, and their weapons—from large swords, chain spears, shields, to magic staffs—were perfectly ready. Elements of fire, ice, and lightning glowed in the darkness, creating a deadly light display.

  At the center of the circle, a figure named Kars stood silently. His gray cloak looked clean, without a single wrinkle. His black hair was neatly combed back, and his gray eyes reflected the various lights before him.

  He did not draw his weapon. His right hand hung loosely at his side, while his left hand slowly adjusted his shirt collar, as if dust were a greater threat than the thirty assassins surrounding him.

  “Attack!” The commander’s shout shattered the tension.

  The ground trembled. An earth wielder stomped, sending a sharp stone pillar shooting up from the ground right beneath Kars’ feet. At the same time, two wind element users lunged from the left and right, their swords wrapped in whirlwinds capable of slicing through steel.

  Kars did not jump. He did not block.

  He just blinked.

  In a single second, the stone pillar pierced empty air.

  There was no sound of footsteps, no gust of wind. Kars suddenly stood behind the wind element user on the right side.

  “Slow,” Kars whispered.

  He raised his index finger. Its tip shone with a blinding white light; it wasn’t fire, it was pure condensed light.

  A thin line of light as thick as hair shot out from the tip of the index finger. The line pierced the wind user's steel helmet, came out of the forehead, and continued to shoot until it pierced the chest of the second wind user, who was running from the opposite direction.

  The two bodies fell simultaneously. There was no blood squirting. The holes in their heads and chests were instantly charred, flesh and bones melted by the heat that exceeded the boiling point of iron.

  The other soldiers jerked back, their formations faltering.

  "Don't give him a loophole! Combine attacks!"

  A female witch in the back row raised her wand. Black clouds gathered on the narrow canyon ceiling. The blue lightning was snatched down, directed by the water conductor fired by his companion. The combination of water and lightning was a deadly and inevitable death.

  Thousands of volts of electric current crawled across the wet ground, surrounding Kars from all directions.

  Kars let out a long sigh, looking somewhat disappointed. He opened his right palm facing the sky.

  Plasma Style: Queen Core

  The air around Kars suddenly changed. The oxygen didn’t ignite but became ionized. A whitish-purple energy ball formed in his palm—it was pure plasma. The temperature in the canyon spiked drastically within milliseconds.

  When the lightning and water struck within a two-meter radius of Kars’ body, the attack didn’t explode. The water didn’t evaporate into regular steam; it vanished, breaking down into atoms. The lightning was absorbed, devoured by the pulsating plasma ball in Kars’ hand as if it were just a light snack.

  The stone floor beneath Kars began to hiss and melt, turning into bubbling magma.

  "Just this?" Kars asked flatly. He squeezed the plasma ball in his hand until it broke. Heat shock waves exploded in all directions.

  The five leading soldiers holding large steel shields didn't have time to shout. Their shields burned red, then white, and then melted as wax dripped into the fire. This plasma heat does not stop at the metal. Their armor fuses with skin. The flesh blistered and peeled off before they had time to realize the pain. They collapsed into a monstrous mound of smoky meat.

  The remaining forces of the Red Klitano Bandits turned pale, horror crawling across their faces. It wasn’t fire magic; it was the energy of the sun brought down to Earth.

  “Spear formation, strike him all at once!” Their commander was still undeterred. He looked like a giant compared to the other soldiers. He used metal elements to harden his skin into black steel, leading a desperate attack.

  Twelve people charged forward. Spears, axes, and swords were thrust from every angle, aimed at Kars' neck, heart, and stomach.

  Kars' eyes shone, his irises turning a bright ash gray completely without pupils.

  Light Style: Refraction.

  Kars's body shattered into dozens of light shadows. The enemy's weapons only sliced through the shimmering afterimages.

  The real Kars now walked leisurely among the crowd of enemies who were attacking his own shadows. His movements were fluid and efficient. Every step he took, his hand touched an enemy.

  A light touch on the shoulder. A gentle touch on the back. A soft tap on the forehead.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  Every point he touched left a glowing mark in the form of a small circle that blinked rapidly.

  Within three seconds, he had passed by twelve people and stood behind the commander.

  “Done,” Kars murmured, snapping his fingers.

  The star-shaped marks attached to the soldiers' bodies exploded simultaneously. Not a fire spreading, but a plasma explosion that imploded inward.

  The scene was terrible. The bodies of the soldiers had a large hole where Kars had touched them. A soldier who was touched in the stomach found his entire midbody missing, leaving his legs and chest separated, falling to the ground with the edge of the wound burning purple. Soldier who was touched on the head... His head just disappeared, evaporating into gas.

  Twelve people died in the blink of an eye, leaving behind a pungent smell of ozone and burnt flesh.

  Now only the commander remains, his black steel skin cracked from the heat. His legs were shaking violently, and his knees had already begun to give up. His huge weapon fell clattering to the ground.

  "You... "What the devil are you?" The commander's voice was hoarse, his eyes wide, staring at the pile of corpses of his comrades that were no longer intact.

  Kars took his place in front of the commander. There was no speck of blood on his gray robe. He raised his hand, palm open towards the commander's face.

  The light particles began to gather in the palm, spinning faster and faster until they emitted a high-pitched buzzing sound that hurt the ears.

  "Stars are not demons," Kars said calmly, his voice sounding flat without emotion.

  "Wait! Sorry–"

  Plasma Style: Miniature Supernova.

  Kars did not throw his light ball; he fired a straight beam, a concentrated plasma beam.

  The purple-white light completely engulfed the commander, and there were no screams. Human vocal sounds couldn’t escape as the lungs and vocal cords vaporized in a thousandth of a second.

  The beam kept moving, piercing through the commander's body, penetrating the cliff wall behind him, and continued extending until it cut through a rocky hill a kilometer away.

  When the light went out, darkness once again covered the canyon.

  At the place where the commander had stood, there were no corpses, no ashes, not even footprints. All that remained was a trail of molten glass on the ground where the beam had passed and a perfect circular hole two meters in diameter, piercing the rock cliff, with its edges still glowing bright red.

  Kars lowered his hand, a thin wisp of steam escaping from his glove. He looked around, making sure no more heartbeats could be heard.

  Suddenly, he felt a surge of Intian, large and rough. The sky seemed to hum and flicker slowly. This was a kind of Intian he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Singus, thought Kars. Someone was using Singus, a rare, god-class technique that should have disappeared since the destruction of the two stars.

  Kars stared at the sky. The Milky Way, which should have been white, had now turned cyan, and the stars within it were flickering uncontrollably.

  The phenomenon lasted only briefly because everything soon returned to normal.

  "Cyan?" Kars murmured in astonishment. He squinted, making sure what he saw was indeed real from the traces left by Singus. He had never seen Singus appear cyanotic.

  Kars had to find it, to locate the Singus user before it was too late. Singus would attract all kinds of evil. People who knew about it would pursue the user. Yes, Singus was a path to ultimate power. And even though the user of Singus was the strongest, he still had to find them.

  "Southwest." Kars felt the remnants of Intian before they completely vanished. He clicked his tongue in annoyance because he hadn't marked the areas in the southwest yet, so he couldn't teleport using Lisp.

  ***

  Kars had been walking for two hours, and finally, he arrived at a small town near where the incident had occurred. Balvinne is not precisely a town for travelers, merchants, or anyone in need of a place to stay. The town smelled foul, like fish left out on land for too long. The streets were muddy, making it difficult for pedestrians. Luckily, Kars wore high boots, so he didn’t have to guess which parts of the ground were still solid like others did.

  The town also seemed unwilling to sleep; even in the middle of the night, activity continued. The streets were still busy, with some local merchants offering their goods to Kars as he passed by their shops.

  To gather information, Kars went to one of the dry bread stalls. He tossed two pieces of Kruppe while taking one of the breads. “What's happening tonight?” Kars casually asked the seller.

  “Nothing interesting,” replied the seller while tidying the bread on his display. After a short while, he stopped, widening his eyes as if he had just remembered something. “Oh yes! There’s a woman wearing strange clothing, blue, stretching down to her feet, a single outfit, her skin brown like a southerner. She came with Sisilkka.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Mr. Rom, she’s the one who won the auction for that woman.”

  “An auction?” Kars raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Could that woman be the one he was looking for?

  “Yes, an auction. That woman is a slave.”

  How a Singus user became a slave, Kars wondered. He stared at the bread, then looked back at the merchant. But they thought the woman was strange. If her features were like those of a southern person, then there was no doubt she used Singus to move from place to place.

  "Where are they now?" Kars had to ask carefully; he couldn't possibly ask who Master Rom was. That person looked important here.

  The merchant chuckled softly. "Of course, at the tavern. Where else would they be?"

  "Thank you." Kars immediately got up from his spot and headed toward the tavern in question. Judging by the way the merchant spoke, it seemed there was only one tavern in this town.

  It wasn't long before he found the place he was looking for. A place with a single-horned deer head. He stepped inside, encountering all sorts of crowds that he actually hated very much. It wasn't hard for him to locate the figure he was seeking; the color blue stood out the most among the darker colors in the tavern's patrons' clothing.

  The woman was at a long table near the bartender, alongside a portly man who was likely Mr. Rom. Kars overheard their conversation for a moment: 120 Kruppe for a woman. It was a trivial amount to Kars. So he immediately placed a pouch containing 200 Kruppe on Mr. Rom's table.

  “I’ll take her,” Kars said flatly, pointing at the woman with his eyes.

  Mr. Rom counted all the Kruppe, smiled broadly, and handed the chain he was holding to Kars. “Just take her, sir. Hopefully, we can do business again.” Mr. Rom had no need to be suspicious, no need to doubt; all he was thinking about was wealth and riches.

  Kars took the chain, unlocked the lock binding the woman, and then carried her away. Just like that, no beating around the bush. He lifted the woman's body and hoisted her onto his right shoulder as if he were carrying a large sack of wheat.

  He ignored the woman, panicking and hitting Kars on the back. He disregarded the looks from the tavern patrons now fixed on him.

  He was Kars, and he didn't care about anything.