I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 52

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 52. We’re Meeting for the First Time

‘You—if you keep stealing and eating like that every day, doesn’t Aslan say anything to you?’

It was during the time when Krash was actively working in the Starry Generation.

Krash discovered Lirina, Aslan’s attendant, helping herself to bread from the Food Basket that was supposed to be delivered to Aslan, and asked with a bewildered laugh.

Aslan was among the most skilled fighters in the Starry Generation.

As the sole grandson of the Flame King, he was now—whatever he may have been in the past—one of the strongest Flame Mages, standing shoulder to shoulder with Abella herself.

That his attendant Lirina would do such a thing every time with half-closed eyes struck Krash as absurd, which is why he asked.

‘Yes, even though you know, you don’t scold me.’

She said so and swallowed the bread in one gulp.

‘Master Aslan doesn’t eat bread, you see. So I’m simply enjoying it specially in his place.’

And yet she ate bread with remarkable enthusiasm every time.

‘You’re going to get fat doing that.’
‘What are you talking about? I manage myself so carefully. Want me to show you directly? I’m genuinely annoyed now.’
‘Why does Aslan even keep you around as his attendant…….’

Lirina, Aslan’s attendant, and Krash were rather close in their own way.

Aslan was also part of the Starry Generation.

Since he too had to venture into World Erosion regularly, he often fell victim to curses, and he owed Krash a debt each time it happened.

So he and Lirina, his attendant, would often exchange casual conversation like this, and they’d even trade jokes with each other.

‘Well, because she’s the only one who looks after Master Aslan, a pretty maidservant. It’s all about looks.’
‘What could Aslan possibly be lacking to choose his maid based on appearance.’
‘I’m popular, you know? Whenever I walk down the street, gentlemen are always trying to coax me into having a cup of tea with them.’

Krash simply gazed at her steadily.

‘What is it. Do you have a problem?’
‘No.’

Since he said so himself, Krash simply let it pass.

‘You’re always so rude to me alone. Are you actually interested in me by any chance? That’s troublesome. I’ll have to decline. There’s only Master Aslan for me.’
‘Thank you.’

Lirina said so and picked up the basket.

‘You’re not good at much else, but thank you for conversing with Master Aslan so often. Master Aslan seems more at ease when he’s talking with you, after all.’
‘……The only one who has a normal conversation with me is him.’

Lirina covered her mouth and laughed with a soft ‘hehe.’

‘Let’s say that’s the reason.’

His eyes weren’t smiling, yet here he was, grinning like a fool—what was he doing?

‘Still, someday I believe Krash will steal away Aslan’s true feelings just as he stole that curse from him.’

Though called the Flame Emperor, Aslan always wore an expression of detachment from the world.

Having seen that face countless times before, Krash clicked his tongue.

‘…How many days does that bastard have left?’
‘Two hundred and ninety-one days, sir.’

Lirina, having spoken that number, lowered her head and departed.

Krash turned the number over in his mind: 291 days.

Because that number was precisely Aslan’s remaining lifespan.

And now Krash was watching Lirina, who had just crammed the last of her bread into her mouth.

‘…Does that woman never age at all, even from back then?’

Krash had never seen Lirina at this time of year before.

His acquaintance with Aslan only began after he’d entered the Starry Generation.

Aslan had never even come to Rahelne Academy in the first place.

Yet Lirina, oddly enough, looked exactly the same then as she did now.

It was almost frightening.

Along with it came an odd stirring of old memories and feelings.

“Soup and bread rolls, sir.”

Just then the server arrived with the soup and bread.

By then Lirina had finished her bread and was already heading outside, a basket in hand.

Seeing this, Krash tapped sharply on the window beside the table.

A flutter of wings sounded from outside, followed by the noise of something darting away.

‘It’ll follow her just fine.’

Krash turned his attention back to the soup and bread.

His stomach had begun to growl as well.

‘First, let’s eat.’

Besides, Lirina and Aslan weren’t about to vanish anyway.

Then something occurred to Krash, and he glanced back at Bianca.

“Bianca, shouldn’t you tie back your hair?”

Bianca reached for her spoon but glanced sideways at her own hair.

Then, spoon still in her mouth, she touched the back of her head lightly.

True to Krash’s word, her hair had indeed grown quite long.

Since arriving at Cheong Song Manor, she’d trimmed it but never cut the length.

So it had grown considerably longer than when she’d first come.

At that length, it would slip into her mouth while eating.

Bianca always tied her hair before meals.

Her lady’s maid Eli always did it for her.

But Eli wasn’t here.

“Then tie it for me, please.”

With that, Bianca turned in her seat and handed him a hair tie from her pocket.

Krash’s expression went blank for a moment.

“The soup’s getting cold.”

Bianca glanced back slightly, urging him on.

“You can’t eat hot things anyway.”

Even as he spoke, Krash took the hair tie from her and gathered her hair at the nape of her neck.

Careful not to pull too hard—it would hurt—he gently gathered and deftly secured her hair into a knot.

When Bianca felt her hair properly tied, surprise crossed her face.

“You’re quite good at this.”
“I learned it long ago.”

Though I was thoroughly scolded for it at the time.

Krash glanced briefly at his hands—the hands that had tied her hair.

It was just an old memory now.

With the thought that he ought to eat, Krash picked up his spoon instead.

The meal was satisfactory enough.

The establishment’s advantage was that one could eat well and fill one’s stomach cheaply.

Because of that, the shop was filled entirely with commoners.

Fortunately, Bianca didn’t mind whether the food was commoner’s fare or not—she ate heartily.

Though she had her preferences, Bianca didn’t seem to dislike anything in particular.

Once he’d finished eating, Krash stepped outside with Bianca.

The sky was growing appropriately dim.

It was only natural—they’d eaten just before evening.

Flap!

In that instant, the sound of wings reached Krash’s ears.

When Krash looked up, a raven was descending toward him.

The raven was none other than Crimson Garden.

“Crimson Garden.”

Bianca stroked Crimson Garden, who had settled on Krash’s shoulder, with easy familiarity.

Crimson Garden, unbothered by Bianca’s touch, offered her his feathers while watching Krash intently.

“Did you follow them?”
-Yes, tracked them well. Just as you said it would be.

At Krash’s question, Crimson Garden lifted his head.

In the direction he indicated, beyond a towering mage tower, stood a grand manor.

-The estate is in chaos right now.

Hearing this, Krash’s expression shifted—as expected.

“The reason for the chaos is, of course—”
-The Flame King’s grandson has attempted suicide again. The entire estate has been thrown into disorder.

The Flame King’s grandson attempting suicide.

The person responsible for such an attempt was someone Krash knew all too well.

Aslan Igrit, the Flame Emperor.

＊ ＊ ＊

If one were to ask which manor is the most famous in the magical city of Halgram—

Everyone would speak with one voice.

It was none other than the Igrit House, where the Flame King resided.

And the Igrit House was currently in the throes of upheaval.

The cause lay with the Flame King’s grandson.

“This time he hanged himself, they say.”
“Last week it was poison. I really don’t know what he intends to do.”

The housemaids swept through their gossip as they cleaned.

Their chief subject was none other than Aslan Igrit’s suicide attempts.

Aslan, the Flame King’s only grandson and firstborn, was destined to inherit the Igrit House in time.

Yet he was cursed with a Lunar Body Constitution from birth, rendering him unable to master the Flame Magic that the Igrit family had wielded for generations.

Still, this did not mean his character was wanting in any way.

Though his Lunar Body Constitution meant he slept through most of the day and was active mainly at night.

He was well-mannered and showed genuine enthusiasm for his magical studies.

Even if he couldn’t master the Flame Magic that the Igrit House took such pride in, he had kept up his magical practice steadily.

But one day, everything changed. He lost his mind.

Some said he’d fallen victim to the curse of a World Erosion practitioner.

No one knew the truth.

“If you keep talking about Aslan like that behind his back, the head maid will scold you.”

The moment those words were spoken, both women jumped.

The voice belonged to none other than Lirina, Aslan’s personal maid.

“L-Lirina.”
“We weren’t saying anything!”

As the two of them bolted away, Lirina—still holding the Food Basket—clicked her tongue.

And these were supposed to be the house maids. Such loose tongues.

Lirina shook her head and continued down the corridor.

Shortly after, she arrived at a certain door.

The moment she was about to open it, a sharp voice erupted from within.

“Have you lost your mind…! After all I’ve done to raise you…! You want to take your own life?! Why on earth…!”

Lirina knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

It was Agatha, Aslan’s mother and the Secondary Housemistress of the Igrit House.

Though the words filtered through the door crack weren’t entirely clear, the tone was unmistakably harsh.

Yet no matter how much Agatha shouted, Aslan offered no response.

At last, huffing with frustration, she began moving toward the door.

Lirina quickly stepped back, and the door swung open.

A middle-aged woman with red hair streaming behind her stepped out and glanced at Lirina.

“Did you hear anything?”

The coldness etched into her face was enough to make even Lirina flinch.

“No, I heard nothing.”

Even if she had, denying it was the wisest course.

So when Lirina answered, Agatha fixed her with a piercing stare, then turned and walked away.

The moment Agatha disappeared, Lirina hurried into the room.

Inside, the sharp scent of medicine mingled with the sight of blackout curtains drawn tight.

Lirina closed the door behind her and stepped back in, the Food Basket still in hand.

Her eyes found a man within.

A gaunt frame and long crimson hair hanging limp.

Deep shadows pooled beneath his eyes.

It was Aslan—Aslan Igrit.

Around his neck, red marks and a loosened Bandage were visible.

The marks were the result of his suicide attempt—rope burned into skin.

“……You should have done it when I was here, shouldn’t you have.”

At her murmured words, Aslan’s eyes slowly opened.

He regarded Lirina for a moment, then smiled weakly.

Despite having absorbed Agatha’s fury not long before, he appeared remarkably unmoved.

“Lirina.”
“Yes, I’m Lirina, your dedicated maidservant. You must be hungry. I’ll prepare a meal.”

She said nothing about the marks on his neck, and instead began arranging food on the table.

It was the food she’d picked up from the shop just moments before.

Since the basket had Warming Magic cast upon it, the food remained hot.

Aslan rose slowly and approached the spread.

He pulled out a chair and sat, studying the dishes before him in silence.

Then he took the utensil Lirina had set out and sipped at the soup.

“……That shop, then.”
“If it isn’t from that shop, you won’t eat at all. Lirina makes the trip faithfully every day. So please, finish everything today.”
“I’ll try.”

Yet for all his words, Aslan’s hand moved without strength.

Minutes passed.

He had managed only a few mouthfuls before setting down his utensil.

Lirina rose and cleared away what he’d left.

Aslan returned to bed and lay down.

“You shouldn’t lie down right after eating. It’s not good for you.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for worrying. You can go now.”

He pulled the blanket over himself without another word.

Watching him, Lirina cleared the remaining dishes, wiped the table clean, and stepped outside.

Her half-closed eyes fixed on Aslan’s closed door with a steady gaze.

Two months ago.

The Aslan who had worn such a bright face was gone now.

In his place remained only a man who prayed for death with each passing day.

Lirina gripped the Food Basket she was holding so tightly her knuckles whitened.

How could she possibly restore him to what he’d been?

As Aslan’s personal attendant, she was the only one who knew the reason for his transformation.

‘Someone.’

Was there truly no one who could bring him back?

Knowing her own strength was insufficient, Lirina could only release a long, weary sigh.

Then her gaze caught on a raven perched upon the windowsill.

The raven sitting on the window was staring at Lirina intently, for reasons she couldn’t fathom.

Seeing this, she tilted her head and approached the window.

As she carefully opened it, the raven did something peculiar—it didn’t flee, but continued to perch on the sill.

“What a curious creature.”

Lirina glanced at the Food Basket in her hands.

It was food destined to be discarded anyway.

When she withdrew a leftover piece of meat from the basket, the raven seized it in its beak and flew away.

So it had come seeking food after all.

“A clever little thing.”

And so began the strange encounters between Lirina and the raven.

From that day forward, the raven seemed to regard Lirina as its feeder, appearing each time she emerged after clearing away Aslan’s uneaten meals.

Each time, the raven received scraps of meat or leftover morsels and flew off.

After several days of this routine, it had become part of Lirina’s daily life.

Today too, having tidied away Aslan’s meal, she saw the raven perched on the window.

“Kami, hello. You came again today.”

At some point she had given the raven a name, and now she approached it with a faint smile.

Watching the raven, which no longer fled even when she touched it, Lirina felt something within her beginning to heal.

“Though it’s not me who needs healing.”

If she showed Kami to Aslan, might he find even a moment of joy?

It was the moment she thought of this.

Suddenly Cami spread her wings and flew to perch below the window.

Lirina tilted her head through the window frame, puzzled.

“Cami? Aren’t you eating today?”

Cami glanced back at her and began to walk away with deliberate steps.

Taking it as an invitation to follow, Lirina climbed over the windowsill and stepped outside.

Curiously, Cami did not fly at all, but instead guided her somewhere.

Before long, Lirina found herself outside the estate, arriving at a nearby park.

The park, which she passed through often, was a place she knew well.

After walking through the park for some distance, Cami suddenly took flight with a flutter.

The moment Lirina looked up to follow Cami, the bird had already landed on someone’s shoulder.

Black hair, blue eyes, and a face still bearing the softness of youth—yet sharp and keen eyes cut through the impression of innocence.

His height, seemingly just begun its growth spurt, marked him as a boy in his mid-teens.

Cami, perched on the boy’s shoulder, appeared remarkably familiar with him.

“Who are you?”

The boy turned to regard her and asked in bewilderment.

His face was remarkably innocent and guileless.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————