I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 130

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 130. Talkative One

The Empire was vast.

In such an expanse, the Augustes Family occupied lands considerably distant from the Empire’s capital.

Perhaps for that reason.

Unlike the Central Nobles, they had independently cultivated their own power base among the Regional Nobles.

The Ephania Imperial House had, to some degree, turned a blind eye to their independent consolidation of strength.

And with good reason—even the Imperial House lacked sufficient hands to contain the World Erosion that erupted across the provinces or repel external invasions.

So it was only natural that the Regional Noble factions developed a tendency to band together among themselves.

‘Originally, Seirang would have been actively working at the Academy to prevent them from uniting.’

But this time, occupied with matters concerning the Starry Generation, she hadn’t managed to stop their consolidation.

As a result, the Regional Noble factions across the Empire had united under the leadership of Pandra.

Krash regarded Pandra with an unwavering stare.

He was bound to him by a curse of shared antagonism, stemming from their complicated history together.

‘Even that vaunted Valheim can’t escape the Empire’s grip. You understand that well enough, don’t you?’

Pandra was a man steeped in virulent Imperial Supremacist ideology.

So he had, on multiple occasions, ground Krash—a direct heir of Balheim, the house representing Starlon—beneath his heel.

Each time he suppressed Krash, he could prove the superiority of both the Empire and himself.

That was why at Rahelern Academy, he had tormented Krash with such relentless pettiness.

So perhaps it was inevitable.

“Who do you think you are, spouting orders like that?”

Krash’s brow furrowed sharply.

The mere sight of that bastard’s face made bile rise reflexively in his throat.

One should not judge a person solely by memories from a past life.

A person can change over trivial circumstances.

But if such trivial circumstances never occurred, and a man grew unchanged,

the reality was that he would hardly walk a different path.

“Ah, junior, I was saying that to my classmates. I was worried they might do something reckless.”

Pandra’s smile curled with sinuous amusement.

That smile bore a striking resemblance to a serpent’s—it seemed to mirror the depths of his true nature.

It made sense — these thugs were clearly acting on Pandra’s orders to rough up the Starlon second-year students.

The moment Pandra stepped forward, you could see the shift in their demeanor.

This one hadn’t changed a bit — still wrapped up in Imperial Supremacist Ideology, still eager to belittle other kingdoms.

Krash, whose eye for reading people was uncanny, could be certain of it.

The man was exactly as he’d always been.

“So, junior — what exactly did our classmate do to deserve this treatment?”

Pandra gestured toward the classmate still pinned beneath Krash’s boot.

At the question, Krash laughed lightly.

“Just got on my nerves.”

It was nothing like the answer Pandra had been expecting.

Even Pandra seemed caught off guard.

He’d clearly wanted Krash to justify it as standing up against the oppression of Starlon’s second-years.

But Krash had no intention of playing along.

“Got on your nerves? Us?”
“Yeah. The second they saw my face, they started grinning like it was disgusting. Broke them. Beat the rest of these bastards too, and I’m planning to beat you next.”
“Ahaha.”

Pandra laughed as though bemused, then adjusted his Glasses with one hand.

“Savage, aren’t you. Is everyone from Starlon like this?”

The moment things weren’t going his way, his true colors emerged.

His plan to gently needle the Starlon second-years into drawing Krash’s ire had failed.

So he’d decided to poke Krash directly instead.

Now Krash turned it around, smiling wickedly.

“Hm, seeing the Central Nobles in action, I’d say the Empire isn’t entirely without sense.”

So Krash resolved to needle him back.

Pandra’s eyebrows twitched.

“Why are you like this?”

The snake-like smile that had hung on Pandra’s face cracked.

“Ah, is that it? Because I’m a Regional Noble?”

And when Krash drove that wedge home, a cold aura began to drift from behind Pandra’s Glasses.

“……You seem to know something about me.”
“No, just that it’s obvious.”

Sorry, but provocation is my specialty. Trust me.

—I’m not sure who the snake-tongued one is here.

He held the ideology of Imperial Supremacy.

And because he carried that ideology, he had always wished to be absorbed into the Central Noble faction.

No matter how skilled a Regional Noble’s independent power-building was, the reality was that they would ultimately be outmatched by the Central Nobles.

So for him, being from a Regional Noble faction was a kind of complex.

He wanted to become a Central Noble.

So Krash’s provocation was like a detonator for him.

“Seems you’ve got quite the knack for getting under people’s skin.”

The air rippled around Pandra.

His own faction seemed taken aback—they hadn’t expected Krash to provoke Pandra to this degree.

“Would someone mind explaining what’s going on here?”

But Pandra was a stubborn one as well.

He suppressed the fury that had surged to the tips of his hair and posed a question to his fellow student.

“The second-year students were encroaching on our space, so I gave them a warning. That’s all. We needed the training ground to synchronize our movements. But this guy just went straight to violence.”
“There was a violent clash during the warning?”
“No, of course we reasoned with them first.”

As if they’d rehearsed it, they continued their story smoothly.

Listening to this account, the ones who had the right to feel wronged were the Starlon second-year students.

“We—we didn’t encroach! We were already using the space from the beginning!”
“That’s right. And the training ground is free for everyone to use anyway.”

The Starlon second-year students began to protest.

From Krash’s perspective, it would have been better if they’d stayed quiet, but they were still inexperienced.

Raised as nobles, having only recently come of age and entered the world, it was unbearable for them to tolerate injustice.

This is precisely why Pandra had deliberately targeted the Starlon second-year students rather than Krash.

So that the Martial Arts Department second-year representative couldn’t back away.

As the children’s protests continued, Pandra turned to look at Krash.

“We may have overstepped on our side too, but wouldn’t you say this is excessive?”

Composure returned to his face.

“So what, you want compensation?”

Krash responded with indifference.

His tone made clear he had no intention of engaging whatever they had to say.

“Compensation and such. If word gets out that students clashed like this, it’ll be awkward for everyone involved.”

He approached the Empire Faction members with an unhurried gait.

“So let’s settle this difference of opinion the way Martial Arts Department students should—cleanly, through a martial test.”

Krash moved his hand to the back of his neck.

Like a habit before combat, he cracked his neck again.

“Fine then.”
“First-years and second-years split into teams and compete against each other—how’s that?”

Krash, who’d been about to land a punch, frowned at the next words.

“What?”
“Well, the disagreement wasn’t just among the juniors, was it? The other juniors deserve the right to voice their opinions too.”
“So first-years fighting second-years proves that right? That’s suppressing it.”

At Krash’s bewildered response, he shrugged with perfect composure.

“This is Rahelern Academy. The Principal said to prove it through strength. We’re from the Martial Arts Department—how else would we prove anything but through strength?”

The Empire Faction boys began to snicker.

“Still, it is pretty unfair, right? How about this instead.”

He offered a proposal to Krash with an air of generous concession.

“Each team sends one fighter at a time. The winner stays on, the loser’s team sends in fresh blood. First team to eliminate all its members loses.”

He said this while turning to face Krash.

“What do you say? You were going to take us all on alone anyway. Not a bad deal, is it? If you’re confident, you can finish us all yourself.”

Krash realized what Pandra was really doing.

‘This bastard knows about my Myeolhwa Chimsik.’

Krash had made many impressive displays at Rahelern Academy.

And in those displays, Krash’s retirements had occurred repeatedly.

No few students had seen and heard about it.

So Pandra had caught on.

Krash’s fighting style was like a torch burning fiercely.

Once the wick burned out, it went dark quickly.

So Pandra’s scheme was to deliberately drag out the match and exhaust that wick completely.

‘If I refuse here.’

That would be something Pandra wanted as well.

It would look as though Valheim had turned tail and run.

Spreading rumors like that was his specialty.

His current position owed far more to scheming than to actual skill.

Besides, there were plenty of people who didn’t take kindly to Krash’s position as the top second-year student.

Naturally, everyone would jump at the chance to tear him down.

From their perspective, it didn’t matter whether the truth held up—they’d just gained excellent bait.

But if they could actually face off and defeat Krash, that would be nothing short of the ultimate prize.

Valheim—the headache the Empire could never quite solve.

And knocking down the Martial Arts Department’s top second-year would give Pandra exactly what he needed: a foothold into the Central Noble faction.

He’d weighed the odds and found nothing but gain in the venture, so he’d set his sights on Krash.

Krash looked out at the Starlon second-year students arrayed before him.

Each of them had been called a genius in their own corner of the world.

But this place was a gathering of geniuses.

And the first-year students, who’d had a full year’s head start, were stronger still.

Which meant, essentially, that Krash would have to crush the Empire Faction loyalists single-handedly.

“Well, well.”

Krash let out a low, genuine laugh.

The moment Pandra saw that laughter, doubt crossed his face—and Krash fixed his gaze on him.

“You really think those conditions give you a chance to win?”

So he was being treated as a cannon to be fired at.

But there was such a thing as an opponent not worth firing on.

And honestly, even if the first-years were involved—

unless they were among the elite of the Starry Generation itself, Krash felt no fear.

“Fine.”

They’d only heard rumors of Krash; they’d never actually faced him.

Over the past year, they’d all grown stronger.

They would have convinced themselves that with numerical advantage and favorable conditions, the second-year number one would fall to them without question.

Never realizing they were frogs in a well.

“It’s nothing but good for me.”

Krash decided to use them to his advantage.

This was his chance to show the first-years—those still uncertain about him—exactly what he was capable of.

Krash Balheim, second-year student of Rahelern Academy—he’s not someone you can lay hands on carelessly.

And whether they like it or not, they’re Empire Faction.

Even Seirang, who represents the empire, can’t help but squirm.

Krash’s face broke into a luminous smile.

Prey was walking straight into his mouth on its own—there was no reason to refuse.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

A voice called out from the entrance at that moment.

Krash turned his head, and there stood Ballak and Glen Diana, Mary’s younger cousin.

They glanced between Krash and the Empire Faction group before approaching.

“Is something the matter, seniors?”

Glen asked, his tone edged with suspicion.

Pandra smiled at Glen with an affable expression.

“A difference of opinion. We’re settling it through martial arts, that’s all. You don’t need to concern yourself, Glen.”
“A martial arts match? With Krash?”

Something felt off to Glen.

When the others fell silent, Glen turned to Krash.

“Including these ones.”

So Krash readily explained what was happening.

Glen’s eyes narrowed slightly.

First-year students against second-year students in a martial arts match.

By anyone’s measure, it was grossly unfair.

“Seniors, I may not know all the details, but isn’t this a violation of chivalry?”

Glen was the type who couldn’t tolerate injustice.

As he criticized them for lack of honor, Pandra let out a brief sigh.

“Sigh. Glen.”

Pandra’s gaze turned cold as he looked down at Glen.

That look said it plainly: what are you doing here, you nobody?

“This isn’t a place for you to involve yourself.”

Glen’s expression hardened at Pandra’s words.

“This isn’t something I should stay out of.”
“A member of the Diana Family, born of the woman who tried to assassinate the royal family—why do you presume to act like this?”
“Don’t you have any shame?”

At that moment, Glen’s eyebrows twitched at the voice that came from behind Pandra.

The matter of Mary attempting to assassinate Sizlery, the Fourth Imperial Princess of Ephania.

Because of that incident, the Diana Family had suffered disgrace.

If things had gone wrong, the entire family would have faced annihilation.

Naturally, the Diana Family’s standing in the empire had been greatly diminished from what it once was.

The Empire Faction members, knowing this fact, had no intention of treating Glen as an imperial noble.

To them, Glen was nothing more than a member of a family that had attempted to assassinate the imperial bloodline.

“…Why is our family being brought up in this conversation?”

Glen asked, looking at the Empire Faction members.

But they merely snickered without answering him.

Tap.

In that moment, Pandra placed his hand on Glen’s shoulder.

“Sorry, my juniors can be a bit mischievous.”

He spoke with a faint, bloodless smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Still, it’s not entirely wrong, is it? After all, keeping that woman alive, your sister places second, and the damage the Diana Family has inflicted upon the empire is beyond measure.”

Pandra tapped Glen’s shoulder slowly while grinning.

“So how about you sit this one out? Honestly, you’re becoming a bit of a burden.”

Pandra’s words struck Glen like a blow.

For Glen, it was a deep wound to his pride.

Yet he could say nothing.

The imperial family would not protect a family that had produced someone who attempted to assassinate the imperial bloodline.

Glen’s hands clenched into fists.

He could not refute because reality was as it was.

But it was another person who grew irritated at this conversation.

“Ugh, all this endless chatter.”

Krash simply reached out and twisted Pandra’s garment in his grip.

In that instant, Pandra, too slow to evade, was dragged along by Krash’s hand.

When his expression contorted, Krash’s eyes met his.

“I may not know much else, but there’s one thing I’m sure of.”

Black Flame began to flow from Krash’s body.

That Black Flame was fierce enough to give even the Empire Faction pause.

“Listen, Mary Diana—no matter how far that bastard has fallen, he’s still leagues beyond you lot.”

A Divine Spear remains a Divine Spear, even in ruin.

Even if Mary hadn’t undergone her regression, these fools wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

Krash was crude, but he was the only one who’d ever acknowledged Mary’s martial prowess.

When the others fell one by one—unable to steal the Curse, unable to do anything at all.

It was she who stood at the front and never broke, holding firm with an unshatterable spear until the very end.

Annoying as she was, bearing the weight of more Curses than anyone else.

Krash wouldn’t deny that without Mary, Jin-hyeong would have collapsed first.

“That woman ranks second not because her strength falls short.”

Krash decided to wake them to reality.

“I’m just disgustingly strong.”

Mary held second place not due to any shortcoming of hers, but because Krash was stronger.

Even if a hundred of them rushed Mary at once, she’d crush them all.

“And right now, you’re picking a fight with someone who’s broken even Mary.”

Krash bared a savage grin.

That smile bore a striking resemblance to Charlotte’s.

“So spare me the chatter.”

He’d beat them so thoroughly they’d run at the mere mention of his name.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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