I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 28

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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 28. The Bait Was Taken

“Entertaining. If I bring down the Raven who rules the Empire’s shadow, I’ll earn quite the reputation.”

Garda swung his Greatsword with obvious confidence in his abilities.

“Both contestants, ready yourselves. Begin!”

In that moment, the announcer called the start of the match.

Garda launched forward with his Greatsword raised, driving hard off the ground.

As he moved, his robe billowed, and his true form became visible.

The crowd, seeing this, finally recognized who he was.

“A child of the warrior tribe Frea!”

Deep green eyes, and distinctive tattoos traced across his body.

The people of Frea, an ethnic minority dwelling in the mountain range known as Frea—said to be the most treacherous in the Empire—and who bore the mountain’s name themselves.

Garda was a child of that very tribe.

Frea, rumored to possess the most severe World Erosion in the entire Empire.

Those raised there were blessed with natural Martial Prowess, and so they were called the warrior tribe.

Could it be that even the Night Raven would not prevail against a child of such warriors?

The thought flickered through their minds for only an instant.

Yet it did not take long before their thinking began to shift.

Krasu merely dodged each swing of Garda’s Greatsword.

“Just dodging, then.”
“No openings for a counterattack?”

Watching this, the crowd mistook it for desperate evasion, but their perception gradually changed as time passed.

Garda’s attacks were savage.

Yet no matter how ferocious the assault, if it lands not a single blow, the story transforms entirely.

Krasu had not been struck even once by Garda’s relentless onslaught.

He evaded every attack with an almost prescient precision.

“Wait, that’s not it.”
“He’s doing it on purpose. He’s dodging deliberately!”

Those who perceived this gasped in shock.

One could only conclude that Krasu was now deliberately toying with his opponent.

It was a performance that could never be achieved without a stark disparity in skill.

“What’s with all that fancy footwork?”
“Night Raven! So they really do deserve the name of an assassination clan.”
“Living in the shadows, we’d always mocked the very title, but I never imagined they’d be this skilled.”
“The Frea boy can’t land a single hit.”

The crowd couldn’t help but gasp.

Though spoken in jest, Night Raven was known as an assassination clan of renown.

And the way Krasu kept slipping away, evading every advance, only deepened the crowd’s conviction that he was indeed of Night Raven’s stock.

“Blast it, you slippery rat!”

Garda, facing off against Krasu, couldn’t hide his rising agitation.

No matter that Frea was a nation of warriors—he was still just a fifteen-year-old boy.

His lack of mental fortitude left him vulnerable, and as Krasu’s movements grew ever more fluid while the spectators’ eyes bore down on him, Garda’s own actions began to contract, to shrink.

“Hngh!”

Desperate to shake off that shrinking paralysis, he swung his Greatsword in a wide, reckless arc.

Whoosh!

The blade carved through empty air.

Garda’s eyes went wide.

Krasu, who had been visible just moments before, had vanished.

“You’re too eager.”

The voice came from behind him in that same instant.

Crack!

Krasu’s fist drove squarely into Garda’s back.

Thud!

The Inch Force detonated in a secondary strike, shredding Garda’s insides.

“Cough—!”

Garda crumpled to the ground, unable to withstand the impact.

No amount of physical training could withstand the Inch Force.

Between the exhaustion from his frantic movements and the devastating blow of the technique, Garda lost consciousness.

The referee, witnessing this directly, raised his hand toward Krasu.

“The winner is Krasu!”
“Rooooaaaar!”

An enormous roar erupted from the spectator stands.

It was a natural response—they had glimpsed the true power of Night Raven, hidden until now behind the veil.

‘I’m not actually Night Raven, though.’

Krasu chuckled silently to himself, actively exploiting the rumors Sigrin had spread.

By now, the real Night Raven must be in absolute panic.

‘And he’ll come looking for me.’

There was no way he’d leave a counterfeit Night Raven running around.

The image of Garda flickered across Krasu’s mind.

He felt a pang of guilt toward him.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been a serious contender for the championship.

‘But Frea’s other representative is probably already guaranteed admission to Laheln Academy, so from Frea’s perspective it won’t matter.’

The true child of Frea who belonged to the Generation of Sky.

Krasu moved forward with that thought.

In that moment, he caught sight of someone in the spectator stands.

It was Sizli, who was gazing at him with a faint smile.

Despite his warning, the fact that she’d entered the martial tournament meant she’d also caught on to Sigrin’s plan.

Sizli was sharp, after all.

—Night Raven, is it? What a splendid identity.

Though her voice didn’t reach him, Krasu read the shape of her lips.

She was teasing him, knowing full well he wasn’t Night Raven.

Krasu left her to it and moved toward the waiting room for contestants.

‘The bait is cast.’

Now all that remained was waiting for whoever took it to appear.

Tap, tap—

As Krasu walked down the corridor, he heard footsteps from the opposite direction.

Krasu raised his head, recognizing the gait of a contestant.

There stood a man.

His tall frame and long limbs were striking, his dark hair falling long and limp around his shoulders.

His eyes held a peculiar dullness to them, but when he saw Krasu, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Impersonating Night Raven? That’s amusing.”

In the instant Krasu thought the man’s throat had moved to speak—

A white blade rose from below, stopping just short of Krasu’s throat.

It was because Krasu had seized his wrist.

“Well, I’ll be.”

Krasu let out an incredulous laugh, tilting his head to look up at him.

“I didn’t expect you to walk into the trap that easily.”

Whether to call this good luck or bad luck, he couldn’t say.

The Night Raven had come to exact vengeance on Krasu.

* * *

Since ancient times, crows had been treated as ill omens—scavengers of the dead.

They were creatures closest to death itself, lingering at the side of the dying.

The Night Raven bore the name of such an ominous bird.

One of their assassins stood before Krasu now.

Yet Krasu simply tilted his head as he regarded the Night Raven operative.

“Hm?”

A brief question escaped his lips.

In that instant, a blade shot toward him from the opposite side of the arm Krasu held.

Krasu sidestepped the blade coming for his head with ease, then drove a boot into the man’s gut and shoved him back.

The man staggered back several paces, yet showed no sign of pain.

Watching this, Krasu’s conviction deepened.

He knew exactly who stood before him.

“This is news to me too.”

Krasu did not possess detailed knowledge of the Night Raven.

The principal reason was that they had vanished while he was still a student at Laheln Academy.

The rumor had spread widely enough.

The Empire’s students had made quite a fuss about the Night Raven being wiped out.

After that, he learned only that the Night Raven had actually been a hidden weapon of the Imperial family—nothing else reached his ears.

But to think the Night Raven’s true identity was this creature.

‘Did Arthur take him in?’

Of course—a Regressor would do such a thing.

He must have known all this beforehand and moved accordingly.

‘So that’s why he disappeared during his time at the academy.’

And this time, it seemed Sigrin had been the one to use Night Raven before Arthur.

Since she’d been with Arthur, she would have already known the organization’s true nature.

“Not bad at all.”

In that moment, the man twisted his neck and spun his blade in an odd stance.

“So impersonating Night Raven means you’ve got some skill, is that it?”

As he spoke, an easy smile played across his face.

The instant that smile faded, another blade came flying at him.

Krasu drew and batted the sword away in one motion.

The man chose quick strikes, but Krasu’s blunt blade deflected every one.

In swordplay, there was no catching up to Krasu.

The moment he came to that conclusion, the man’s mouth stretched wide open.

From his jaws came a poisoned dagger, snapping out with a sharp sound.

Krasu tilted his head lightly to evade it, and then an arm thrust out from between his clothes.

An arm of pure bone—a Bone Blade arm.

The limb shot forward in an instant, and with a wet thud, it struck Krasu’s body.

A bloody smile twisted across the man’s lips.

He was certain Krasu was dead.

“What are you doing?”

Yet Krasu stood there, unharmed, looking down at him.

“What?”

In his moment of shock, Krasu’s fist came up in a blur, snapping his jaw upward.

The man’s vision swam as he tumbled to the ground.

Krasu planted his boot on the fallen man’s chest and brushed off his hands.

“Death Techniques born of World Erosion don’t work on me.”

The Extreme Blood Needle Poison blocks all techniques of that sort.

“World… World Erosion power? Who exactly are you…?”

The man’s face contorted in shock as he saw Krasu wielding the power of World Erosion.

Krasu looked down at him and scratched the back of his head.

He’d meant to lure Night Raven out and make a counterproposal to get them to help him escape from Sigrin.

If things continued this way, he’d need to revise his plans.

“Evelaske.”

So Krasu spoke the name aloud.

The moment that name was uttered, the man’s body went rigid, and Krasu studied him before asking.

“Where are you right now?”
“What—what, what—what is it? You!?”

In that instant, the man’s voice spilled out in panic.

Watching the man react so violently to five syllables alone, Krasu cracked his neck.

“Your heart is in Sigrin’s hands right now, isn’t it?”
“H-huh!? No—!”

He let out a scream.

Because this man who pierced through him as though he knew everything was terror incarnate.

Even seeing such a reaction, Krasu spoke calmly.

“Let’s make a deal.”
“A—a deal?”
“I’ll recover your heart for you.”

In that moment, the man’s face changed for the first time.

However Krasu knew him now, these were words Evelaske could never afford to ignore.

“In return, tell me everything—the plan Sigrin drew up and everything she’s had you do.”

And Krasu urged betrayal upon Evelaske.

A World Erosion user whose heart was stolen by the Imperial throne, imprisoned for a thousand years.

A Necromancer.

Evelaske Benapoche.

To her.

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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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