I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 136

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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 136. True Strength

The Arena, now pulverized beyond recognition, lay scattered across the ground.

Through the drifting dust, a young man stood gazing upward, scattering Black Flame in all directions.

He was none other than Krash, the youngest son of Balheim.

And his opponent was Arsolde, called the strongest child Pele’s line had ever produced.

The moment their gazes crossed, Krash drew in a sharp breath.

Hiss!

In an instant, Krash’s afterimage scattered.

The moment Krash vanished, Arsolde’s eyes moved at tremendous speed.

His Dynamic Vision—almost bestial in its keenness, transcending human limits—tracked Krash’s movements.

An arm sprouting from Arsolde’s waist lashed out instantly.

Crack!

Yet even with that extraordinary Dynamic Vision and quick reflexes, he was a fraction too slow to catch Krash.

Krash’s blade, sweeping from his flank, caved in Arsolde’s body with the force of it.

Despite the staggering difference in physique, Arsolde was being overpowered in strength.

“Gah!”

In the moment Arsolde choked back his cry from the impact at his flank, another shock struck him from behind.

He plummeted downward in an instant, and the already-shattered Arena floor was reduced to rubble beneath him.

Yet despite the impact, he thrust himself up with his four remaining arms.

Then, grasping broken chunks of stone floor with all four hands, he hurled them indiscriminately.

Crunch! Bang!

Each time Krash swung his blade,

the incoming stones were pulverized.

To Krash, they posed no impediment whatsoever.

The dust from the shattered stone swirled, obscuring his vision.

In that moment, a presence cut through the haze.

Taking advantage of the obscured sight, Arsolde launched a surprise punch.

Snap!

But Krash’s constantly active Lightning Strike instantly shattered Arsolde’s fist.

“Not making that mistake twice!”

But through the crack in Arsolde’s split arm, another fist came flying through.

The madman had seized one of his own severed arms and hurled it, then followed up with a punch.

The lunacy matched anything Krash was throwing at him.

Watching the scene unfold, Krash released the Lioneer mid-swing.

He pulled his rear leg back and drove his right fist forward in one fluid motion.

Crack!

The sound of something shattering rippled across the arena.

Arsolde’s fingers, meeting Krash’s fist head-on, bent inward at an unnatural angle.

The middle finger shattered, and in that same instant, a secondary impact erupted from Arsolde’s fist.

Inch Force.

Boom!

The sound of his fist twisting resonated sharply through the arena.

Yet Arsolde didn’t even let blood drip from his lips.

Indifferent to his mangled hand, he simply drove downward, trapping Krash in his grip.

In an instant, Arsolde began raining every remaining fist down on his own hand that held Krash.

His intent was clear: pulverize both his own hand and Krash together.

As Arsolde’s hand fractured, the barrage continued unceasing.

The madness of obsession for victory blazed in both his eyes.

Whoosh—

In that moment, a brief, burning sound erupted.

By the time he realized it came from inside his own palm, it was too late.

Annihilation Erosion.

Third Form.

Extinguishing Fire Heavenly Thunder.

Lightning and flame erupted in a torrent, engulfing Arsolde in an instant.

The impact that crashed over him exceeded even the relentless barrage of punches he’d unleashed.

Along with the Black Flame that scorched the entire arena, Arsolde tumbled across the ground.

“Gah…”

More than half his body seared by burns, Arsolde rose to his feet, smoke pouring from his frame.

Thump, thump.

And before him, a boy emerged.

Unlike Arsolde, whose arms and hands were shattered and burned, the boy appeared remarkably intact.

Yet the heat radiating from his body was so intense that the surrounding air seemed to warp and distort.

The crimson light blazing from his eyes carried a killing intent so savage it felt almost obscene.

Overwhelming.

That was what everyone felt, watching the sight before them.

Arsolde was undoubtedly a monster beyond reason.

His Gigantification alone meant there was no one here who could stand against it face to face.

Yet Krash had not merely withstood it—he had obliterated Arsolde through sheer force.

This was a sight no one had witnessed since Charlotte.

The children caught in the aftermath swallowed, their eyes vacant and stunned.

In that moment, they understood.

They understood just how dangerous a person Pandora had been foolish enough to touch.

Krash Balheim’s name began to carve itself into their minds as an unshakeable force.

“Hey.”

Krash exhaled smoke from his mouth, his eyes fixed on Arsolde as he gripped the Lioneer, now glowing red-hot.

“Use everything you’ve got left.”

Then, without emotion, he called out to Arsolde once more.

At those words, a thick smile bloomed across Arsolde’s face once again.

Despite the contusions, fractures, and burns that riddled his body, he could still smile.

The endorphins flooding his combat-intoxicated mind dulled the pain.

Total commitment.

Those were the words Arsolde craved most.

“Krash.”

His voice rang out with unbridled joy.

“You’re the finest warrior I’ve ever met.”

A violent wind began to surge.

Heavy air suffused the arena.

In that instant, the sunlight pouring down from the sky struck Arsolde, illuminating the golden circlet bound around his head.

Behind Arsolde, light erupted like a halo.

A chill ran through the air—

The children watching felt goosebumps crawl down their spines.

In that moment, something inside them screamed that something was wrong.

White hair bristled across Arsolde’s skin.

From a distance, it almost resembled armor.

In that grotesque sight—

Arsolde’s thighs swelled to a degree utterly beyond anything before.

Crack-crack-crack-crack!

His legs, possessing the elasticity of natural muscle, inflated to their maximum.

Everyone felt something leap.

A belated gale swept across the space where Arsolde had been standing.

But only Krash saw clearly.

He saw Arsolde’s fist, covered in white hair, hurtling toward him faster than sound itself.

Gigantification.

Pulverization.

A reckless, mindless assault designed simply to crush.

Yet the destructive force was on an entirely different scale than before.

As the sound of the air being torn apart followed, Arsolde’s fist came within inches of Krash’s face.

In Krash’s deepest being—

Within the veil of descending night, seven stars hung suspended.

Did this fool even know?

That Krash had waited for him to go all out.

Krash’s Annihilation Erosion was focused solely on firepower.

A firepower that existed to sever an opponent’s lifeline in a single blow.

In a life-or-death struggle, perhaps it would suffice.

But naturally, Annihilation Erosion was far removed from something like a match.

If the opponent were stronger, that would be fine.

But against an opponent of middling strength, Krash could not go all out either.

Arsolde, however, was different.

That Gigantification of his is formidable in raw destructive power alone.

But more than that, his physical defense scales dramatically higher.

‘With a body like that, I can hit it as hard as I want and it won’t break.’

A cruel smile twisted across Krash’s lips.

Krash had been chafing for so long, never quite managing to fully apply Noxus and Cheonsal-seong in the way he envisioned.

But now, of all moments.

The sturdiest test case for his full strength had walked straight into his path.

For Krash, this opponent was the ideal canvas—the perfect proving ground he could have asked for.

-Tsk. Poor Frea’s brat, caught against a madman like this.

The sound of Crimson Garden’s disapproving tongue click reached him—she’d read Krash’s intent clear as day.

Krash let the sound pass through one ear and drew his back foot inward.

The moment the seven stars of Cheonsal-seong blazed in unison.

Black Flame erupted across Krash’s body with a ferocity that transcended anything before it.

And at the same instant, the Madness of Annihilation Erosion surged from his frame like a torrential flood, drowning him entirely.

As Cheonsal-seong and Madness bared their teeth at each other, gnashing to devour one another.

Ten seconds.

Flame Destruction Asura.

The apex—the moment of ultimate power that Krash had attained.

The fist hurtling at him suddenly felt as though it moved in slow motion.

Flame Destruction Asura dragged even cognitive acceleration in its wake, warping time itself between Krash and Arsolde.

The blade of Lioneer ignited with Black Flame, deepening to an absolute black.

Across that midnight steel, seven stars etched themselves one by one, composing a night sky.

The very air around them reversed its flow.

Crunch!

Within the cry of muscle straining through the grip of the blade.

Dragon Rising, surging beneath Krash’s forearm, finally reached Lioneer.

And for one brief instant.

As everything seemed suspended in stillness.

Krash’s blade cleaved through the air.

Annihilation Erosion.

The Fourth Form.

Extinguishing Fire Cut Night.

With a cloud of dust, everything was swept away at once.

Across the Arena, now stripped of its original shape.

Only Arsolde and Krash remained standing.

……

A long silence stretched across the entire Arena.

The sound itself seemed to have been torn apart, and everyone forgot to breathe.

In the hushed expanse, all eyes turned to Krash and Arsolde alone.

In that instant, Arsolde’s body slowly crumpled forward.

As his Gigantification faded, Arsolde had returned to his original form.

Thud!

The moment Arsolde fell, the eyes of the children began to tremble slowly.

Before the collapsed Arsolde, Krash stood in a sword-thrust pose, motionless.

He exhaled lightly.

Krash turned to look at the children, still dazed.

Among them, the ones who caught his eye first were those who would later become the Starry Generation.

Glen, fists clenched tight.

Haring, her expression betraying no doubt from the beginning.

Balak, swallowing a breath of regret.

And Pele, eyes wide open.

Their gazes tangled with different thoughts.

Krash slowly opened his mouth.

“Someone get this guy medical attention.”

It was the moment the contest between the first-year regional nobility faction of the Empire and the second-year cohort was decided.

＊ ＊ ＊

News that Krash had defeated the first-year Arsolde spread in an instant.

Those who heard the news naturally erupted into chaos.

Arsolde was counted among the strongest of the first-year students in Martial Arts.

There was no avoiding the uproar that followed his decisive victory over such a formidable opponent.

In truth, it was rather amusing.

Krash had already defeated Kairan—an Associate Professor and the so-called Pirate Empress—during the entrance examination.

Judged by that standard alone, his prowess was already proven beyond question.

Yet the students made far more fuss over the fact that he’d defeated a first-year student.

But that is the nature of people—they feel most acutely what they have witnessed themselves.

Scarcely anyone had crossed blades with Associate Professor Kairan.

There were those who’d had the misfortune of meeting her fists by accident, owing to her habits, but they were few and far between.

Most students had never truly faced off against Kairan, who ordinarily conducted herself with propriety.

Arsolde, by contrast, was a madman—he challenged anyone who looked remotely strong.

The students who had watched him do this countless times from the sidelines knew his abilities well.

Thus, for the students, this latest affair struck far more deeply than the entrance examination had.

As word of Krash’s deeds rippled outward, spreading like rings on water,

one figure—the one who had suffered most from this incident—slowly furrowed her brow.

In a corner classroom granted to the student council,

she rested her elbows on an elegantly appointed desk, her eyes twitching as she read the report before her.

It was a habit that emerged whenever she grew angry.

Third Princess of Epania, Sigrin.

There was only one reason why the princess of the Epania Empire had become so incensed.

Arsolde belonged to Sigrin, after all.

“……Where is Arsolde?”
“……He said he was going to train and left the Rahelern Academy for the mountains.”

Having received this report, Sigrin slowly covered her face with her hands.

This madman had fought Krash, lost, and then slipped away to training as if nothing had happened.

Sigrin felt a dull throbbing building behind her eyes.

‘This is what the Starry Generation is like.’

Sigrin ground her teeth together.

The members of the Starry Generation possessed such fiercely individual personalities that, despite being grouped together as a single generation, they never truly united.

How else could Arthur have broken each of their wills with his own hands?

Without doing so, they would have been uncontrollable—dangerous bombs waiting to explode.

“Sigh.”

As Sigrin exhaled, the Black Knight and White Knight flinched.

“Sigrin, we will handle Krash Balheim ourselves.”
“Yes, leave it to us.”

Sigrin glanced at the Black Knight and White Knight after hearing their words.

“How do you propose to stand against someone who has already defeated even Arsolde?”

At her question, the two exchanged a brief look and fell silent.

Watching them, Sigrin began tapping her desk slowly with her index finger.

To be honest, the fact that Arsolde had fallen to Krash was unexpected.

In Sigrin’s mind, Krash remained nothing more than a Cursed One.

Looking back on it, there was nothing incomprehensible about his victory over Kairan.

But still, an image once fixed in the mind was difficult to erase.

‘And this time they said it was essentially a complete domination. No matter what, he’s far stronger than I imagined.’

Sigrin slowly traced her chin.

She had intended to twist Krash around her finger and swallow him whole.

But he had severed that possibility cleanly, defeating the Empire Faction despite being a mere provincial noble.

Moreover, this incident was ultimately the result of that fool Pandora making the first mistake against him.

If Sigrin were to approach him now with the intention of drawing him in, it would only shake the Empire’s prestige instead.

Sigrin’s lips curled in bitter frustration.

The Cursed One who kept causing problems was becoming an eyesore.

Recently, even Dorma had practically vanished from the faction Sigrin had created.

And Arsolde would certainly spend the coming days lost in drunken stupor, running through the mountains from dawn to dusk.

That made two.

Two members of the Starry Generation were already acting independently.

‘Should I kill him?’

For just a moment, such a thought flickered through her mind.

Sigrin was confident that among the members of the Starry Generation currently attending the Academy, none could match her martial prowess.

Unlike Mary, she had not slackened in her training for a single day since her return.

Her strength had ripened perfectly.

At this moment, she could even kill Krash.

‘But I can’t.’

But she shook her head.

Krash was indispensable in his role as a Cursed One.

Even if he continued to act as a variable piece on the board, it was still better to bring him under her control than to kill him.

“Sigrin.”

At that moment, a knock sounded from outside.

When Sigrin glanced toward the door and granted permission to enter, her unit’s secretary stepped in.

“The Lion’s Squad should be returning sometime tomorrow.”

The Lion’s Squad.

A student organization that Charlotte had formed.

And Sigrin recalled who had gone with them this time.

Mary Diana.

A new creation who had returned with her.

As Mary came to mind, Sigrin’s eyes gleamed for a moment.

Yes—didn’t she have a piece that could be used and discarded at will?

A piece that would brave even death itself at her command.

Sigrin hoped that Mary would defeat Krash.

If Mary could only overcome Krash, then Mary could absorb all the accomplishments that Krash had built in return.

But on second thought, there was no real need for Mary to be the one to defeat him.

Women had a secret weapon that could be wielded against men, after all.

Sigrin smiled slowly.

“Mairi.”

Sigrin rose from her seat, calling on her secretary.

“Have Vallian from the Special Department’s Alchemy Division brought here.”

She would need to borrow the power of alchemy.

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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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