I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 41

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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 41. A Way to Reclaim an Arm

Krasch’s eyes opened as morning sunlight streamed through the window.

The exhaustion from his battle with Berkman must have lingered.

It was only now that Krasch realized he had fallen asleep again.

“Sleeping with some girl at your age. How disgraceful.”

At the sound of that voice, Krasch turned his head.

Perched at the bedside was a raven—Crimson Garden.

“What nonsense is that?”
“Look to your side.”

Krasch’s bewildered gaze fell upon the figure lying to his left.

It was none other than Bianca.

Her eyes were swollen, and her grip on his left arm was tight.

It was only natural, given how hard she must have cried in the early hours.

He’d need to get her some ice for her face when she woke.

Hadenhartz had snow year-round—perfect for the task.

“How is your arm?”

At Crimson Garden’s question, Krasch looked down at his right arm.

It was empty. Gone.

There was nothing to speak of.

“I don’t feel anything.”
“Well, of course you don’t. You have no arm.”

Then why ask?

“So what will you do now?”

Crimson Garden posed another question.

Krasch had promised to become the strongest and steal her Immortality for her.

But now his arm was severed.

Clearly, he would no longer be able to keep that promise.

“Don’t worry.”

Yet Krasch showed no concern whatsoever about the situation.

“I know how to restore my arm.”
“Hah.”

Crimson Garden laughed softly, watching Krasch with an amused smile.

“So this is the leisure of a Regressor?”
“An arm is easy enough to fix—I’d just need to visit the Sacred Kingdom Friman.”

One of the Four Great Kingdoms: the Sacred Kingdom Friman.

There dwells a Saint said to have revived even the dead.

‘That she can raise the dead is propaganda the Sacred Kingdom spread, of course.’

Still, it was true that the Saint possessed power to match such claims.

Since infancy, the Sacred Kingdom had bathed her in the Holy Grail itself—a holy relic.

Because of that, she was scarcely less than a monster brimming with Divine Power.

But he couldn’t very well borrow her strength now.

Even if his standing had improved of late, he remained a Half-blood.

Falheim would never spend the fortune required to hire the Saint on his behalf.

Falheim was no charity—not when it came to Half-bloods.

At best, they might summon a priest for him.

“So you have no intention of borrowing Divine Power, then.”

Crimson Garden showed genuine interest at this.

Despite his irritation at being treated like a Regressor, Krasch laid out his plan for restoring his arm.

“Since I’ve lost my right arm anyway, I’ll have it replaced with the best possible.”
“Hah—if arms were that easy to swap out, everyone in the world would’ve done it by now.”
“But I know someone who can.”

Krasch smirked, and Crimson Garden stopped her jeering.

“……So you rescued her for this reason?”

Crimson Garden was pointing at none other than Evelask.

The world’s only Necromancer.

A woman who could manipulate even corpses.

Attaching an arm was nothing to her.

“This is coincidence, nothing more.”

Even Krasch wouldn’t be mad enough to deliberately sever his own arm.

This was pure, accidental alignment.

Evelask happened to be present, and his arm happened to be severed.

That was all—he would simply use her convenience.

‘I’ll have to deal with that bastard again, but still.’

I’m worried about what he’ll demand in exchange for attaching an arm.

But right now, an arm is more urgent.

“So what arm are you planning to attach?”
“The Sword Demon.”

The moment Krasch answered without hesitation, Crimson Garden went rigid.

Krasch watched her stiffen and smiled slowly.

The Sword Demon.

Once a powerhouse who set the world ablaze, a genius of Iaijutsu renowned far and wide.

So skilled with the blade that it was said no one in the world could match his Iaijutsu.

“You rotten bastard.”

And that Sword Demon was none other than Crimson Garden’s servant.

Her most beloved servant, no less.

“So hand over the arm.”
“Absolutely not! Live as a one-armed man!”
“We made a deal. You’re supposed to make me stronger.”
“The Sword Demon is a servant I raised from childhood!”
“Then raise me from infancy too.”

Krasch gave Crimson Garden a look that said she did nothing but scold him all day long.

At that, Crimson Garden spread her wings wide, her expression one of sheer indignation.

“You ungrateful wretch! I nurtured your meager talent, taught you even the Moonless Blade, and you dare look at me with such eyes!”
“Crimson, aren’t you the one being petulant here? The Sword Demon died ages ago anyway.”

The Sword Demon was dead.

The reason for his death was simple: age.

He had simply grown old and passed away.

Crimson Garden possessed the power to bestow Immortality.

Indeed, she had already granted Immortality to Sera, Shizli’s attendant.

‘Though honestly, that was hardly true Immortality.’

The Immortality Crimson Garden gave to Sera differed from her own—it was only half Immortality.

More accurately, it could be called ultra-rapid regeneration.

‘And the drawback of such Immortality is that it activates by burning the recipient’s life force.’

That was why the Immortality Crimson Garden granted was considered half-blood.

True Immortality should mean never dying at all.

An immortality that ended with the loss of life force was not true immortality.

Which meant Crimson Garden could not resurrect the Sword Demon, dear as he was to her.

“I know you cling to your servants.”

For Crimson Garden, her servants were the sole window through which she could perceive the world.

So she poured her emotions upon them without restraint.

Even knowing it would cause her suffering, she continued to pour those emotions into them, again and again.

Thus Krasch understood well—ironically, Crimson Garden’s weakness was her very servants.

‘Arthur told me the method directly, after all.’

The method Arthur had provided to locate Crimson Garden.

It was to seize her servants and torture them directly.

On this side, they had the Saint.

No torture would kill her servants.

Knowing this, Arthur had said that Crimson Garden would speak the location of her true form herself.

Arthur’s eyes had held no color whatsoever as he spoke those words.

He simply repeated them as if merely doing what had to be done.

He had been broken from the start.

“But the Sword Demon died long ago.”

Crimson Garden flinched.

“Yet his Iaijutsu did not die. You know all of it, don’t you?”

Krasch lifted his own empty right arm into view.

“If I had the Sword Demon’s arm, I could manifest that Iaijutsu once more.”

Krasch was accomplished at learning the dark arts.

With Crimson Garden’s help, he could surely master the Sword Demon’s Iaijutsu as well.

“Wouldn’t the Sword Demon wish for that too?”
……

Crimson Garden stood motionless, wings still spread.

Then she folded them and fixed Krasch with a glare.

“This three-inch tongue of yours—do you think words just tumble out like powder from a bean when you waggle it about?”

Had he failed?

As Krasch deliberated on how to sway Crimson Garden, she stepped before the window.

“……Wait two days.”

An unexpected answer came back.

So she’d agreed after all.

Krasch smiled faintly.

“Thank you, Crimson Garden.”
“You only call me by my real name when you need something. Infuriating bastard.”

Crimson Garden spread her wings as if in a huff and swept out of the chamber.

Watching her go, Krasch felt considerably relieved.

He couldn’t very well return to Falheim without his arm, after all.

‘The problem is, Hadenhartz has already reported this to Falheim.’

This place was the North Sea Ice Manor, Hadenhartz’s ancestral seat.

Which meant Hadenhartz knew the state he was in.

There was no chance he hadn’t informed Falheim of what had happened.

‘How to explain it all away.’

They’d received word that his arm was lost, yet if he returned with it intact, the main house would be bewildered.

‘If I can get my story straight with Hadenhartz, it should work out somehow. The problem is finding a way to coordinate with him.’

As for the arm, he was confident he could talk his way around that.

But the real issue was himself—originally reported to be at Cheongsonggwan.

If he suddenly appeared at Hadenhartz’s residence, Falheim would have questions.

‘I’m worried about Alliod’s side.’

Krasch pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

He didn’t dwell long on problems that couldn’t be solved through worry alone.

That was who he was.

That situation could be resolved with enough excuses.

If it came to it, he could always fall back on his reckless nature.

‘If I just say I was being rash, what can they do about it.’

He was already a castoff—where was the harm if he turned up somewhere unexpected.

For now, all he had to do was wait until Crimson Garden brought back the Sword Demon’s arm.

‘I want to do more research on the Flame Annihilation Poison too.’

The Flame Annihilation Poison, created by combining Ignis and Extreme Blood Poison.

In a sense, it was his own original secret art—something Krasch had crafted himself.

Looking at the firepower he’d unleashed, it was clear this would become an invaluable asset moving forward.

‘The problem is how long I can sustain it.’

At his current level, even if his body broke through its limits, he could only maintain it for three seconds.

That meant the constraints were nearly as severe as with his Iaijutsu.

‘There’s no answer but to train harder.’

Still, he had solved the greatest weakness of the Extreme Blood Poison—the berserker state.

The Curse Doll he’d stolen from Bianca would suppress that madness for him.

‘The Curse Doll’s effect is…’

Krasch tested it by recalling a few infuriating memories on purpose.

Certainly, the rage welling up inside him was less intense than before.

But unlike Bianca, his emotions didn’t disappear entirely.

It felt more like his feelings were being forcibly dampened—held back.

‘Curses lose their potency when the target changes.’

And now, having obtained the Curse Doll, Krasch understood something new.

‘So the Curse Doll suppresses emotions rather than erasing them entirely.’

That must be why Bianca sometimes seemed to possess feelings, despite her usual detachment.

‘Back then, a more powerful curse had consumed the Curse Doll itself, so I never noticed the distinction.’

He’d assumed vaguely that it simply erased emotions.

But for Krasch, this distinction was welcome news.

‘With this…’

Krasch’s eyes gleamed.

‘I can control it.’

Krasch had carried countless curses in his body over the years.

As a result, the highest-tier curses remained beyond his ability to manage, but he knew how to handle curses of lower grades.

He hadn’t made himself a curse specialist for nothing.

It was precisely this knowledge that had made him eager to steal the Curse Doll in the first place.

Using his instinct, Krasch slowly began to awaken the berserker state he’d been suppressing.

‘I’ll cancel out the madness by offsetting it against the Curse Doll.’

Then he felt the world gradually tinting crimson, the sensation flooding through him.

The moment he unleashed his instinct, the urge to rampage surged—unmistakably the mark of berserker state.

But here, Krasch awakened the curse embedded in the Curse Doll.

As if fitting a leash on a raging stray, the Curse Doll forcibly suppressed the Madness.

The world, which had been turning red, gradually darkened and returned to its natural color.

A sharp laugh escaped Krasch’s lips.

That laughter was proof he had complete control over the Curse Doll.

“Nothing special.”

The Madness would grow stronger as the power of his World Erosion grew stronger.

Eventually a day would come when even the Curse Doll could no longer suppress it, but by then he could simply counteract it with another curse or skill.

At least for now, the Curse Doll could function without worry of the Madness overwhelming it.

So Bianca didn’t need to worry about him lacking emotions either.

A faint rustling.

It was then.

Krasch felt something moving to his left.

He turned his head toward it and found Bianca slowly rising, her body trembling.

“……Krasch.”

She looked for Krasch the moment she stood.

But her eyes were so swollen she couldn’t see properly, so she groped about for him.

Seeing this, Krasch felt a strange mixture of exasperation and took her hand.

Only then did Bianca’s expression relax.

“Can you see?”
“My eyes hurt.”

Well, of course they’d hurt swollen like that.

“What about your stomach?”
“I’m hungry.”

At least she was consistent about that much.

“Let’s get you some food.”

Her stomach needed filling.

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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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