I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 132

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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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Chapter 132. Doping Self-Destruction

A second-year student at Rahelern Academy.

He stood in the Arena—a cousin of Mery Diana, who had attempted to assassinate the Imperial Princess, and a cadet branch member of the Diana Family.

Facing him was a young noble from a provincial power in the Empire.

Unlike Glenn, this man wielded a sword with a considerably thicker blade, and seeing Glenn, he let loose a contemptuous smile.

“The Diana Family’s prestige has fallen quite far. You call yourself an imperial noble, yet you stand with Starion.”

Hearing the scornful words, Glenn twirled his spear in his grip.

The stance was so practiced it revealed how long he had been wielding the weapon.

“I am not standing with Starion. I simply despise seeing my fellow second-year students subjected to unfair treatment because I follow my own code of chivalry.”
“Chivalry can freeze to death. What chivalry could exist in a house that produced a madwoman who tried to assassinate the Imperial Princess?”

Glenn’s brows twitched, and he leveled his spear at the man.

“My sister deserves execution for what she did. I have no words against that.”

He knew well enough that Mery, whom he had once revered, no longer existed.

Mery, who had attempted to assassinate the Imperial Princess, could never escape the stigma of a criminal for the rest of her life.

“But that does not give me reason to abandon my own chivalry.”

Glenn’s dark eyes gleamed ominously.

His aura was formidable enough to make even the Imperial Faction member falter.

In one year of training, they too had grown harshly.

But talent exists in this world.

The average of those from provincial powers barely measured as mid-tier at the Academy.

Certainly, within just a single year more, the children of the Special Class would overwhelmingly surpass them all.

So the Imperial Faction member gripped his sword tightly.

Today would be the last chance to humble their pride.

“Let’s see this chivalry that a fallen central noble keeps.”
“Begin!”

As the referee student called the start, the Imperial Faction member immediately raised his sword.

What he chose was naturally a defensive stance.

He was the one who had defeated Balak moments before.

So this time too, he intended to take a defensive posture and preserve his stamina for the next opponent.

But for some reason, his sword received no impact at all.

When one of the Imperial Faction members showed confusion.

Glenn hadn’t moved a single step from where he stood before, his spear gripped firmly in his hand.

A question flickered across the Imperial Faction member’s eyes.

What was he doing standing there without attacking?

“Clever tactics.”

The moment those words were spoken, Pandrah’s voice came from behind, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

It didn’t take long to understand what that meant.

The other side had made the same decision as this one—not to attack.

“What rubbish—didn’t you just go on about chivalry? And now you crawl out with such cowardice?!”
“I’m not sure why you speak of cowardice, but in battle, being particular about means and methods is the stupidest thing one can do. Don’t drag something as foolish as chivalry into this.”

Glenn regarded the Imperial Faction member with pitying eyes.

“And the moment circumstances turn against you, you spill curses? If you want to become nobility of the central courts, perhaps you should first refine that vulgar tongue of yours.”

Those final words struck directly at the Imperial Faction member’s nerve.

His face flushed a violent crimson with anger.

—Wait, that last jab wasn’t aimed only at him, was it?

And for some reason, Krash found those words applied to him as well, so he scratched the back of his head.

Why was he suddenly turning on his own team?

—But that boy is attempting the same thing you are.

Krash heard this and turned his gaze toward Glenn.

Just as Crimson Garden had said, Glenn was executing the exact same maneuver as Krash.

It was none other than condensing Aura into his spear.

A faint layer of Aura was forming on the spear’s surface, and the Aura was gradually layering itself onto the weapon.

Much like the Sword Saint’s Flash Draw technique.

The Imperial Faction member hadn’t noticed yet, but to Krash’s eyes—trained from frequent use of such techniques—it was crystal clear.

—He must be mimicking what he saw at the entrance ceremony. So he’s just like me after all.

Well, regardless, he’s bloodline from the Diana Family, renowned masters of the spear, just like Mery Diana.

Whatever the power turns out to be, it’s not a bad choice.

While the opponent dithers, even if he tries to defend, a single decisive blow will break through.

“Reid, this isn’t the moment for that.”

In that instant, Pandrah issued a warning to the Imperial Faction member.

It’s an unwritten rule that outsiders don’t address each other during a match.

But Pandrah, who had to win this bout no matter what, seemed to have no such reservations.

Reid, a member of the Imperial Faction, only looked at Glenn after hearing Pandrah’s words.

Golden lightning began to flow from Glenn’s spear.

The same color as Mery Diana’s Aura.

“Ugh!”

Reid quickly switched his grip on his sword.

Then he pushed off the ground.

‘He chose offense.’

Krash watched Reid charge forward with his guard abandoned and instantly knew it was over.

He’d dropped the defensive stance he’d adopted to close the gap with his opponent.

The result was painfully obvious.

Crackle-crackle-crackle!

With a burst of golden light, Glenn’s spear lunged toward the charging Reid.

Reid, who had been trying to strike before Glenn could gather more power, was swinging his sword—but Glenn’s spear was faster.

Like Mery Diana, Glenn moved with blinding speed despite having no Accel, his spear knocking Reid’s blade from his grip.

In the same instant the spearhead touched Reid’s body, the lightning exploded, sending him flying out of the Arena.

Thud-crash!

Reid rolled across the ground, and the sword he’d been holding plunged deeply into the earth beside him.

The match was decided in a heartbeat.

Krash felt Pandrah’s eyes narrow with fury.

But Krash could sense that Glenn hadn’t escaped the toll either.

‘He overextended himself.’

Simply watching and mimicking was harder than it seemed for such an advanced technique.

Krash could use it too, precisely because he’d obtained the Sword Demon’s arm.

The strain naturally manifested in Glenn’s body.

Particularly his arm trembled faintly, betraying just how much he’d pushed himself.

It was certain that in the next match, he wouldn’t be able to perform at full strength again.

“Haring, we need to prepare.”
“Roger.”

Still, he was whittling their numbers down steadily. That was enough.

Krash glanced toward Arsolder.

All he needed was to save that one for last.

* * *

In the next match, Glenn performed far better than expected.

He had adopted the same strategy the Imperial Faction member had used earlier—pure defense, whittling away his opponent’s stamina.

Because of that, when the Imperial Faction member exhausted himself pushing the attack, his reserves were already badly depleted.

The moment he faltered, Glenn squeezed out one final counter that landed with brutal precision, and the Imperial Faction member crumpled.

Of course, the effort left Glenn too spent to continue.

“Two of them.”

Glenn was helped down from the arena by a referee, and he announced this to Balak with something like pride.

“Damn it, I showed them exactly what their strategy was. I didn’t lose!”

Balak cried out indignantly, but Glenn just laughed—a dry, short sound—and glanced toward Krash.

Having pooled his strength in much the same way Krash had moments before, Glenn had now felt firsthand how grueling such an art truly was.

Watching Krash casually unleash it during the opening ceremony, he’d wondered how much effort lay behind it. Now, after that duel, he understood.

‘It wasn’t that the captain is weak. It’s that she’s strong.’

That thought seemed to be far more certain than he’d first believed.

“Well done.”

In that moment, as Glenn descended, Krash tossed the words to him almost carelessly.

For some reason, those words made Glenn feel as though his chivalry hadn’t been wasted, and warmth bloomed in his chest.

“Yeah.”

As Glenn answered, Haring moved to climb into the arena.

Krash caught her by the shoulder.

“Not yet.”
“Huh? You just told me to get ready.”
“That’s not what I mean.”

Krash gestured sharply toward Haring’s Poison Pouch.

“We have those, remember?”

Haring blinked.

“You two, come here.”

Whether Krash cared or not, he summoned the second-year students.

The Imperial Faction currently had three students eliminated.

Krash’s team, composed of second-year students, had two eliminated.

By the numbers alone, Krash held the advantage, but the remaining second-year students aside from Haring and Krash showed a significant gap in ability.

Unwavering resolve gleamed in the eyes of the gathered second-year students.

They’d witnessed Balak and Glenn’s desperate struggle—now they meant to do whatever they could themselves.

That’s why Krash had sent Balak and Glenn out first.

If those two had gone in trembling with fear, the rest would’ve crumbled before they even started.

Krash opened the Poison Pouch he’d received from Haring.

He examined its contents, then distributed them one by one to each student.

“You all want to win, don’t you?”

When Krash posed the question, all the second-year students nodded enthusiastically in unison.

Every student here was from Starion.

The Empire and Starion had clashed countless times across the ages, and Starion’s noble scions knew that fact intimately.

Thus, their very beings burned with an inextinguishable will—that the Empire must be broken at all costs.

And now, they stood before Krash.

A direct heir of Balheim, the true power of Starion.

To impress such a man, the Starion second-year students would spare no effort.

“Then put one in your mouth and head out. Swallow it right before you fight.”
“K-Krash, what exactly is this?”

One student ventured a careful question.

They’d likely heard tales of the Laguen Family before.

Coming from the pouch of Haring, a direct heir of that very family, it was only natural they’d feel uneasy.

“Poison Pellets.”

Krash answered with certainty, confirming their worst suspicions.

When the student who’d asked clamped his mouth shut, Krash draped an arm across their shoulders.

“Don’t worry. It won’t kill you. Your body will just suffer a bit. Nothing serious. But I’ll stake my name on this—with just one of these, you’ll be able to bring down a first-year from the Imperial Faction.”

Krash spoke those words with a slow, deliberate smile.

“When it comes to grit, Starion has it in spades. We don’t have weaklings who whine for us.”

The faces of the Starion second-year students drained of color.

Krash tilted his head when no reply came.

“Why isn’t anyone answering?”
“Of course we will!”
“We will win!”
“Long live Starion!”

Krash nodded with a satisfied expression.

—Damn demon.

Crimson Garden seemed to say something, but Krash paid it no mind.

He simply stood behind them, watching the second-year students who followed his words with such fidelity.

One of the second-year students climbed into the Arena with a Poison Pellet clenched between his teeth.

Just then, an Imperial Faction member who was ascending let out a scoff at the sight of him.

“Ha, greenhorn kids.”

The tension that had gripped him upon expecting to face Haring vanished in an instant.

The Starion second-year student, whom he so openly disdained, felt heat rise in his chest.

He had his pride, too.

He had not come to Rahelern Academy to be mocked in such a manner.

So his resolve hardened.

Crunch!

He bit down on the Poison Pellet he held between his teeth.

His Aura surged forth and his muscles swelled visibly larger than before.

“Hah!”

Overflowing power poured from his sharp exhale.

His vision opened as if he had just awakened something new within himself.

Confidence surged through him like a flood.

With this…

I can win!

“Huh?”

The Imperial Faction member, sensing something ominous, turned to look back at the second-year student.

“Begin!”

In that instant, the student referee signaled the start of the match.

Boom!

With a planted foot, the second-year student launched forward in an explosive leap, rushing headlong toward the Imperial Faction member.

A startled Imperial Faction member hastily drew his sword to counter, but the clash sent him stumbling backward.

The force he felt was beyond anything he’d imagined.

“Raaaaaaagh!”

The second-year student roared and charged forward with eyes rolled back, wild and uncontrolled.

The Imperial Faction member floundered against the second-year’s frenzied onslaught, and the battle raged on.

Throughout the exchange, the Imperial Faction member landed several strikes that should have been fatal blows.

His physical abilities had risen, but his inexperience in wielding them showed in every blow.

Yet the second-year didn’t seem to register pain at all, absorbing the attacks with brutal resilience before striking back just as viciously.

The result was a savage, relentless exchange in which both had essentially abandoned defense.

“We can win this!”
“Beria, hold on!”

The other Starion second-years screamed with desperate fervor as the brutal assault continued.

They’d all gotten caught up in the moment, swept into the spectacle.

None of them realized they’d soon face the same fate themselves, but in that instant of frenzied cheering—

“Kagh!”

The Imperial Faction member crashed to the ground, and the second-year tumbled after him.

Both lay motionless, neither showing any inclination to rise.

It was a draw.

“Waaaaagh!”

The Starion second-years erupted in cheers at their comrade’s comeback, as if celebrating their own victory.

Yet the second-year himself was trembling violently, foam flecking at his lips from the Poison Pellet’s lingering effects.

Watching this spectacle, Pandrah’s eyes widened behind his glasses and his mouth fell open.

Krash’s gaze met his, and a wickedly satisfied smile spread across his face.

“Five more to go.”

Welcome. Your first Doping Self-Destruction, I presume.

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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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