I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 31

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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 31. Martial Arts Tournament Finals

The Epania Empire Martial Arts Tournament main bracket.

Before long, the preliminaries had ripened into their final stage, and the championship round had arrived at last.

Yet curiously, instead of the adult division—which should have commanded all attention—it was the youth bracket that had captured the crowd’s imagination.

The reason was none other than Krad, the boy whose name had become synonymous with rumors of Night Raven affiliation.

A narrow-eyed youth with a crow perched upon his shoulder.

His power was as striking as his enigmatic bearing.

Throughout every bout, he had subdued his opponents with a single devastating punch—never once drawing the blade that hung at his hip.

This had led spectators to wonder whether the sword was merely for show, a prop without purpose.

Thus surrounded by questions and speculation, the final championship match began at last.

“Thank you all for your patience!”
“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

The enormous roar of the crowd flooded through the youth division arena, threatening to bring the walls down.

The vast indoor stadium—the largest in the empire—overflowed with spectators who had gathered in anticipation of this final clash.

“We now commence the final match of this year’s Martial Arts Tournament youth division!”

The announcer cried out as he raised his left arm with a flourish.

“First, we introduce one of our two finalists! A boy raised in a humble village who aspires to one day stem the World Erosion and safeguard the peace of all worlds—Felei!”

At the announcer’s call, a young boy walked into the arena.

He shuffled forward with an awkward gait—a fourteen-year-old with an utterly unremarkable face.

“Go, Felei!”
“Don’t lose to something like Night Raven!”

To his surprise, a great many voices rose in his support.

For he was the common people’s beacon of light—a symbol of their own hopes.

Unlike the nobility, he had trained his blade in an ordinary rural village and climbed all the way to this tournament’s final round.

The common folk were moved by his example and cheered for him with genuine fervor.

“And his opponent… merely speaking his name strikes fear into hearts—a figure rumored to belong to Night Raven, that infamous house of the criminal underworld…”

The announcer, gauging the crowd’s emotions with precision, broke into a knowing grin.

“Krad!”

And with the announcer’s cry, a crow suddenly took wing from the contestant’s entrance tunnel and soared into the air.

“Caw!”

The raven that cried out loudly and soared into the sky captured everyone’s attention in a single moment.

A raven—symbol of ill omen.

In the brief instant when the commotion ceased at the creature’s arrival—

Tap, tap, tap.

A boy walked slowly from the entrance.

Beneath jet-black hair lay eyes wrapped in an impenetrable calm, and the aura emanating from the boy created a subtle, suffocating pressure.

As he ascended into the arena, the raven that had been gliding through the sky descended slowly onto his shoulder.

“……All right, I get it. I won’t ask you to do that again.”

He muttered to himself, and when he lifted his head, the crowd erupted in cheers that nearly brought the arena down.

“Night Raven!!!”
“I bet on you for first place! Win this!!!”
“Show us what an assassination clan is made of!!!!”

As cheers rang out from all corners, Krad turned his gaze forward.

And there stood Felei.

An unremarkable face, no matter how many times you looked at it.

Yet even so, this man belonged to both Rahelern Academy and the Sky Generation.

‘Didn’t expect to see him here.’

Those earnest eyes hadn’t changed, then or now.

But Krad remembered with perfect clarity the day when hope had flickered out of them.

Still, regrettably, other matters took priority over facing him now.

He had achieved what he’d set out to do, after all.

“Krad.”

At that moment, Felei spoke to him directly.

“Are you really with Night Raven?”

Naive, as always.

Instead of answering, Krad loosened his neck lightly.

This side of things was essentially finished.

So all that remained was to push hard enough to let the other side make its grand move.

“If that’s the case, it’s better to come at me.”

At that moment, something unexpected came from Felei’s mouth.

“This Martial Arts Tournament was held by the Epania Empire to recruit additional students for Rahelern Academy. Since we’ve both made it to the finals, we should definitely be able to gain admission there.”

It was already common knowledge, spread far and wide.

Though there was nothing remarkable about it, Felei spoke as if imparting something precious.

“Rahelern Academy is an independent institution that no nation can interfere with. If you were there, you could escape Night Raven.”

And so came the talk of dreams and boundless hope.

Unfortunately, Rahelern Academy was not quite so magnificent an institution.

Being newly founded, it possessed limited power.

Because of this, after the initial period, it was soon tossed about like driftwood in the power games between the empire and the kingdoms.

‘Looking back on it now.’

There were several reasons why Rahelern Academy had been swept up so easily.

But that was neither an urgent concern nor something that occupied Krad’s attention.

“Felei.”

So Krad drew his blade for the first time in this tournament.

As the spectators erupted in cheers once more at the sight of it, Krad leveled the sword toward Felei.

“If you’re filled only with hope, you won’t be able to withstand the despair that comes crashing down.”
“What?”
“Match start!”

Before he could understand the enigmatic advice, the referee’s voice rang out.

It was Felei who opened the fighting.

Curiously, he glided across the ground as he approached.

‘A footwork technique he developed himself.’

Felei came from a place in the empire’s northernmost reaches—among the highest and coldest.

A place where snow fell year-round.

Growing up there, Felei had learned to traverse slippery ice and snow, and in doing so had developed a more efficient method of movement.

He had yet to name it himself, but Krad knew what it was called.

Cheonri Sipbo.

A footwork technique whose name spoke of covering a thousand leagues in ten strides.

‘An opponent seeing it for the first time would be caught off guard.’

Even when one was certain there was still considerable distance between them, suddenly the opponent was at arm’s length.

As proof, Felei had closed the gap in a single instant and was now right in front of Krad.

Felei—the sole commoner to rise into Sky Generation through talent and effort.

At this moment, he was as strong as Anyx.

Clang!

But his opponent was formidable.

“What?!”

Felei’s blade, aimed at Krad’s waist with a feint woven in, clattered against Krad’s sword and was deflected.

At that sight—as if Krad’s blade knew precisely where Felei’s would go—Felei’s eyes widened.

“You’re hardly in a position to lecture others on technique.”

When Krad needled him, Felei bit his lip and immediately launched into a barrage of strikes.

A blade wielded ten thousand times to fell timber, a hundred thousand times to split stone.

The calluses alone that marked his palms spoke volumes about the rigorous training he’d endured.

What forged Felei was unmistakably a lifetime of discipline.

Yet something existed that surpassed even that training.

‘Knowledge of one’s opponent.’

Because he’d had to remain behind everyone else, he alone had been able to observe Sky Generation most closely.

That observer was himself.

‘Sixth Sense.’

The Aura enveloping Krad’s body awakened a new perception.

And so, wherever Felei’s blade came flying, Krad’s sword was already there to meet it.

Before even the concepts of feint or true strike—starting from Felei’s smallest habits down to his finishing techniques.

Krad knew everything.

It was the one talent he’d never consciously recognized.

Because he possessed nothing of his own, he had the talent to identify and memorize everything about others, detail by detail.

Certainly, that talent had once been useless.

Observing others keenly, being quick to read the room—all it ever earned him was people’s irritation.

But now, in this moment, that talent was finally beginning to bloom.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Every strike Felei unleashed came to nothing before Krad.

The crowd watching this display sat utterly mesmerized.

Felei’s sword, wielding speed itself, moved almost too fast for the eye to follow.

His skill—unbelievable for his age—drew gasps of admiration even from the Empire’s knights.

Yet Krad surpassed him still.

Every strike Felei threw seemed to dance in Krad’s grasp.

His attacks never reached Krad—not once. They crumbled before impact.

Blunt Sword.

A sword technique that moved slower than the opponent’s, yet arrived in their space first.

And in this moment, Krad had fully stepped into that domain.

“You can’t reach me.”
“What is that?”

The crowd began to fall silent, watching.

Even those who had been quietly rooting for Felei gradually held their breath.

It was overwhelming.

The overwhelming certainty that no matter what Felei did, he could not defeat Krad.

Everyone present felt it in their bones, watching with their own eyes.

A sharp, crystalline laugh pierced the air.

Crimson Garden’s laughter rang out from the sky, where she had already risen into the air.

-Yes, boy.

She spread the raven’s wings beneath her, delighting in the moment.

-That is your only path. If you have nothing, steal everything your opponent possesses. Bare your greed for all to see.

The Blunt Sword seizes the opponent’s space.

No matter where the opponent’s blade moves, your blade claims that space first.

Ironically, the Blunt Sword was the technique most suited to Krad of anyone.

He could only stand above others by taking everything from them.

Felei’s breath came in ragged gasps.

The sound tore from his throat as he attacked.

He was the one striking, the one on offense.

And yet his feet kept slipping backward.

No matter how frantically he swung his blade, he could not advance.

Krad’s sword had seized every inch of space available to him.

Krad was slightly shorter than him.

But with each block, with each parry, the boy’s presence seemed to expand, to fill the world.

Felei felt as though he were swinging at stone.

Could he cut through this stone himself?

That helplessness gripped his entire body.

“Felei.”

In that moment, Krad’s voice rang out across the arena.

As Felei looked up, Krad’s blade was already at his throat.

“Haah, haah.”

Ragged breathing spilled from Felei’s mouth.

The sword Felei had swung hung barely one centimeter away from Krad’s neck.

Even though it was Felei who had struck.

Cold sweat trickled down Felei’s cheek, touching Krad’s blade.

They were that close.

“Grow stronger.”

And with those words, Krad opened his mouth to the trembling fighter.

“So that even if your hope crumbles away, you’ll preserve an ember of it.”

Leaving behind those cryptic words, Krad drove his fist into Felei’s solar plexus.

Chon Gyeong.

With two waves of impact, Felei coughed up blood and collapsed.

With that, Krad turned away.

The backlash from wielding the Blunt Sword filled Krad’s lungs with searing breath, but he kept his composure intact.

And in that moment.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

A roar unlike anything before erupted through the arena.

It was an absolutely overwhelming display of the Blunt Sword.

There was no one who could watch without crying out.

“Ah, and the champion is—”

The announcer, belatedly coming to his senses, raised his hand.

“Krad!”

The moment he declared victory, pointing to Krad, the arena erupted once more with deafening sound.

“K-rad!”

I never thought he’d regain consciousness so quickly even after taking a direct hit from Chon Gyeong.

“Will we meet again?”

So this was why he hadn’t joined Sky Generation for nothing.

Krad watched him clinging to consciousness with grim determination and spoke.

“Yes, if it’s the Academy.”
“I… see.”

With that, he lost consciousness entirely.

We’ll meet again.

Though not in a state like this—something different, perhaps.

‘Thank you, Krad. I’ll work harder than the curse you’ve given me. I’ll protect the world.’

For a moment, old memories surfaced.

When Krad had stolen Felei’s curse—the very curse that had consumed him upon his return from World Erosion—those were the words Felei had spoken.

Words of gratitude, rare after so long.

Yet one month later, Felei had met Krad again.

The master of World Erosion tore his limbs away, and he died slowly.

Krad’s fist clenched tight.

‘Don’t worry, Felei.’

And Krad’s head rose slowly.

“This time, I’m the one who protects.”

Not others—myself.

And to accomplish that.

‘Sigrin.’

I’ll destroy that woman’s plan.

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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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