I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 37

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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 37. Phantom Combat

Butcher Berkman.

His defining traits were his perpetually playful behavior—as though a screw had come loose in his head—and his seemingly careless movements.

Because of this, he made frequent blunders, and this flaw became all the more pronounced when he toyed with opponents weaker than himself.

Yet true skill meant overcoming all such weaknesses.

Few could flee from the Empire’s Black Dragon Knights and slip away from the Empire itself.

Not unless they were exceptional beings like Shinchang or Mary Diana.

In that moment, Krash raised his hand.

The Black Hood triggered from his palm, and Bianca’s Hairpin—which Berkman had taken—returned to his grasp.

Krash tucked the hairpin carefully into his pocket.

When he looked up, Berkman rose to his feet with an irritated expression, his eyes rolling dramatically.

Despite the impact of the Short-Range Force, he appeared unharmed.

If Bianca hadn’t been captured, he would have run him through with a sword wrapped in Aura—a killing blow. But Berkman was a formidable opponent.

To kill him would require pouring maximum Aura into the strike, but had he done so, Berkman would have sensed the danger immediately and defended.

Surprise attacks only worked against equals.

With Bianca in captivity, taking such a gamble was far too dangerous.

So Krash had to choose the Short-Range Force instead—lacking in destructive power perhaps, but certain to dislodge Bianca from his grasp without alerting him.

It was a shame the surprise attack had failed, but Bianca was safe. That was enough.

“Who the hell are you? Why do you have to go and ruin my fun?”

His protruding snout twisted with annoyance.

“Enough talk.”

Krash wanted nothing more than to take Bianca and head straight back to Hadenhartz.

He needed to treat her wounds as quickly as possible.

Right now, only he could help her.

Crimson Garden’s raven form couldn’t carry Bianca, and Evel Aske followed the World Devourer’s unspoken law.

Turning his back and fleeing from Berkman was equally risky.

So he would strike Berkman down here.

“You wallop someone and then act tough about it? Kids these days are too vicious, I tell you.”

The moment Berkman spoke, his shadow scattered into wisps.

“You’re infuriating!”

In that instant, Berkman’s axe snapped and came flying toward Krash.

Clang!

A brief moment.

Krash’s blade filled the gap, blocking Berkman’s axe.

‘Fast.’

His Sixth Sense had barely managed to keep pace.

And judging by the sheer volume of his Aura alone, the man had reached the apex of the Expert tier.

Having become a vessel of the World Devourer, he must have shattered his own limits.

Krash had only recently ripened into the intermediate Expert stage.

The gap in power was unmistakable to anyone watching.

“Ha, you blocked it!”

Clang, clang-clang!

Berkman’s axe swung several more times.

Each time, Krash’s blade darted in to meet it.

It was a blunt sword.

Yet even a blunt blade proves effective when it can fully absorb an opponent’s raw strength.

Krash, losing in raw power, found himself retreating step after step, unable to exploit the blunt sword’s advantage in controlling space.

“Keep blocking! Block it for me!”

Mad Dog’s distinctive cocky voice burst through.

His tone carried not a shred of weight.

He moved like some street ruffian spoiling for a fight.

Yet for all that lightness, the axe itself was brutally heavy.

Thud!

The axe struck again, and overwhelmed by the force, Krash’s blade flew up sharply.

Berkman’s eyes flashed at the opening.

Releasing one hand from the axe, Berkman drove his fist straight at Krash.

Thwack!

A sharp impact echoed out.

But there was one thing he hadn’t anticipated.

“Ugh?!”

The gasp tore from Berkman’s throat—the one who had thrown the punch.

The reason was simple.

Krash, who had predicted Berkman’s move through his Sixth Sense, had hurled his own fist directly into the path of Berkman’s punch.

Cun Jing.

The Secret Technique’s effect—piercing the surface to deliver impact deep within—proved devastatingly effective.

It had cracked the bones in Berkman’s fingers.

Krash’s left fist, in turn, had not escaped unscathed.

Though he had driven the Cun Jing forward with all his force, he had absorbed the same shock in return.

Without the Cun Jing, only Krash’s fist would have cracked.

“Ahhh?!”

Berkman’s scream—his fingers fractured—rang out once, sharp and clear.

Krash, too, could not escape the pain.

He had borne the brunt of the impact, and now a sensation like splintering bone radiated through his hand.

Yet Krash channeled all his strength into his blade immediately after.

Here his advantage revealed itself.

Whissh!

Krash’s blade cut through the air and grazed Berkman’s ribs.

It would have gutted him entirely, but Berkman reacted at the last instant and dodged.

Between the spray of blood, Krash’s blue eyes burned with crystalline clarity.

He was accustomed to pain.

He had endured far worse countless times before.

A mere crack in his knuckles would not slow him down.

‘Seize the rhythm.’

His thoughts accelerated, and with them, his focus sharpened.

The punch succeeded, and the barrage of blade strikes that followed forced Berkman’s movements into hesitation.

Humans instinctively flinch when struck.

Berkman was no exception.

So in that opening, Krash unleashed his Aura in an explosive surge.

The Aura seeping between his arm muscles rose along the blade, staining it a brilliant blue.

‘Ignis.’

At his call, the blue Aura transformed into raging flame.

Whoosh!

A burning blade of fire drove toward Berkman.

The sudden inferno caught Berkman off guard for just a moment.

And in that gap, Krash pressed his attack with relentless precision.

He was determined to draw blood from Berkman if he could.

“Damn it, this is getting annoying.”

But if this were all there was to it, Berkman never would have stood against Charlotte before his return.

“Woof!”

A brief, sharp bark—the cry of a hound.

Krash recognized it as the beginning.

Following that sound, the colors around them began to shift and twist.

The snow-filled Mountain Range that had filled their vision moments before gradually transformed into shades of crimson.

Twilight descended, and the sound of barking echoed from all directions around the peaks.

A crimson veil descended over Krash’s eyes.

His every sense began to twist and reel beyond his control.

Phantom Binding.

While Berkman saw everything around him clearly, Krash was trapped within the illusion, the world warped before his eyes.

A Secret Technique that spreads Aura through sound, layering it across an opponent’s senses to distort perception.

Once ensnared by his Phantom Binding, you could understand nothing until the moment of your death—a terrifying Secret Technique indeed.

“Trapped like that, you must be dying inside, aren’t you?”

Watching Krash stand motionless since falling into the illusion, Berkman let loose a mocking laugh.

Yet despite that laughter, Berkman’s nostrils flared like a beast’s, and he gripped his Axe slowly and deliberately.

When Krash had pressed his attack moments before, Berkman realized he’d been in more danger than he’d thought.

The form of a child, yet a gap in raw strength and Aura that shouldn’t have been there.

He’d judged at a glance that this was a weakling he could handle as he pleased.

But now his left fist bore a crack, and his right flank bore a blade wound.

From Hadenhartz, a search party should be arriving soon enough.

It seemed best to finish this quickly.

“Clang!”

So he let out that barking sound again.

His senses twisted in response.

The pain in his hand and the sword wound both vanished.

By wrapping himself in illusion, he’d erased the pain that would otherwise hamper his immediate fight.

Gripping the Axe, he began to advance one deliberate step at a time.

His movements shifted to something far more cautious—like a hunting wild dog stalking its prey.

The moment Berkman deployed Phantom Binding, he’d classified Krash as a dangerous opponent.

So there was no more room for carelessness.

True to his reputation as Mad Dog, he had begun his real hunt.

‘That movement tracking my Axe from earlier—it wasn’t ordinary.’

There was a chance Krash could counter even within Phantom Binding.

So Berkman spun his Axe in a wide arc.

What he brought down was nothing less than the base of a tree.

Crack!

The toppling tree began its fall toward Krash in an instant.

At the same moment, Berkman launched himself from the ground.

The direction he ran was none other than toward Bianca.

That was when it happened.

Slash!

Krash cleaved the falling tree in two and immediately launched an assault on Berkman.

Berkman barely dodged the blade that came at his face, his eyes wide with alarm as he glared at Krash.

In Krash’s eyes, a red shimmer rippled—clear evidence he’d been caught by Phantom Binding.

And yet, Sixth Sense.

Krash possessed an ability that could completely counter his Secret Technique.

Berkman let out a laugh tinged with frustration.

“Ha—a real bastard, aren’t you?”

Berkman felt a chill wash through him—something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Krash had deliberately kept his fangs hidden the whole time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

‘Drawing out my carelessness as far as possible.’

Krash’s gaze turned toward Berkman.

The way he stared directly back was unmistakably the look of someone freed from Phantom Binding.

Now he knew for certain.

This man was no mere prey.

He was an opponent worthy of a true battle between beasts—two predators fighting over sustenance.

Clang!

The crash of axe against blade rang violently through the forest.

Screech-screech-screech—as the axe and sword locked in a contest of pure strength, metal shrieked against metal.

Watching this, Berkman thrust his head forward at Krash, his jaws opening wide like a beast’s maw.

“If you can’t stop me, I’ll gouge out her eyes and cut off her fingers and legs, then shove them down her throat.”

The words that spilled from Berkman’s mouth were calculated to provoke, to pierce Krash’s composure.

Yet Krash’s expression didn’t flicker even as he heard them.

No change at all, despite the crude taunt.

Seeing that, Berkman felt certain of something.

‘So Phantom Binding still has its claws in him,’ he thought.

Regardless of how Krash had broken free, his five senses were not yet wholly restored to normal.

If that was true, victory tilted toward Berkman’s side.

His opponent remained under Phantom Binding’s influence and had something to protect.

Berkman, meanwhile, had only to attack.

Following the shifting tide of battle, Berkman’s axe came crashing down from all directions.

Krash’s blade narrowly deflected Berkman’s axe each time, but with every parry, his body was forced back.

And that wasn’t all.

Berkman’s axe had begun to bleed phantom afterimages.

Phantom Hammer Axe.

Countless false strikes wove themselves into the stream of real attacks.

A number of phantom axes descended upon Krash in a scale far beyond what the Bandit Gang’s leader could muster.

Though Krash had used his Sixth Sense to fully counter Phantom Binding, that did not grant him immunity to the technique’s aftermath.

His body was proof of that—fresh wounds continued to bloom across his flesh.

He gritted his teeth and grimaced.

And watching from a distance, Evel Aske bit down hard on her lip.

She stood there watching the two men fight, caught between hope and dread.

Krash was her benefactor—the one who had returned her heart to her.

Even if their bond was born of transaction, she had her principles.

She did not want to let him die.

‘Should I step in? But if I do, he’ll mark me as a target. And not just me—he’ll see Krash as connected to me, and hunt us both.’

The one who had made the butcher Berkman into a servant.

Mad Dog, one of the World Devourers.

If Mad Dog decided to hunt not only her but Krash as well, there would be no way out of it.

Mad Dog was one of the strongest among the World Devourers.

And true to his name, he was relentless.

Once he fixed his target in his jaws, he would never release his fangs until his prey lay dead.

So she could not intervene, and her foot tapped impatiently against the ground.

Bang!

In that instant, Krash took a blow from Berkman and tumbled across the floor.

He scrambled to his feet quickly, but in doing so, he left himself open to attack, and new wounds blossomed across his body.

Seeing this, Evel Aske shot upright.

No. Not like this.

Better to die later than here—here it would all mean nothing.

-Do not interfere.

At that moment, a voice bloomed inside her mind.

It belonged to none other than Crimson Garden.

Evel Aske’s breath caught.

Do not interfere?

Did she mean to stand idle while Krash was cut down before her eyes?

-Trust in him. Watch.

Crimson Garden’s voice came again.

There was certainty in her tone.

-He told me himself he would win this.

Krash had spoken those words himself.

Then as his teacher, she had only to believe him and bear witness.

—Trust that child who gave your heart back to you. That one’s a rare breed, and I’ve acknowledged it.

Hearing those final words, Evel Aske slowly sank to the floor.

“……Honestly, if you die, I’ll resurrect you as a corpse.”

She spoke with a heart that desperately hoped it would never come to that.

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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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