I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 62

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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 62. Death and Resurrection

He bolted from the room without a word.

The Academy Dormitory was where Dorothy stayed, after all.

By the time Aslan arrived at the Academy Dormitory, his legs burning with effort, the building was engulfed in hellfire.

A handful of students who’d escaped huddled outside—some writhing with burns, others weeping openly.

But Dorothy was not among them.

Aslan rushed toward a student who looked relatively unharmed and grabbed her shoulder.

“Have you seen Dorothy? A girl with translucent blue hair?”
“D-Dorothy? You mean that dropout?”

The student seemed to know who Dorothy was, but confusion clouded her face.

Then a younger girl raised her hand.

“I saw her! Dorothy saved me and this other girl!”

The child pointed to an unconscious student beside her, eyes watering from the thick smoke.

But Dorothy herself was nowhere to be found.

“Where did she go?”
“She said she was going to rescue more students. She went inside…”

The moment Aslan heard those words, he bolted toward the entrance before anyone could stop him.

He’d layered protective magic across his body—spells to shield him from the flames—and charged into the inferno.

Even with the protection, the heat was suffocating.

This fire was no ordinary blaze.

“This is Magic.”

Who would do such a thing?

Did someone hold a grudge against the Academy?

Aslan had never attended the Academy, so he couldn’t know the answer.

But one thing was certain: he had to find Dorothy.

“Dorothy! Dorothy, where are you?”

Aslan called her name desperately, weaving past crumbling debris and falling beams.

She was barely learning basic Magic.

There was no way she could survive in an inferno like this.

After searching the first floor and rushing up to the second, then the third, Aslan noticed something—the temperature of the flames ahead seemed to be dropping.

The moment Aslan grasped what was happening, he threw himself upright and sprinted toward that direction with desperate speed.

‘Move!’

As Aslan blew away the rubble scattered around with Magic, a flash of blue hair caught his eye.

Between strands of icy hair whose tips were frozen and fluttering, glimpses of transparent, blue-tinted skin like frozen glass showed through.

The girl, half of her body composed of ice, was desperately suppressing the Frost Magic against the flaming spell circle before her.

And Aslan knew this girl well.

‘Dorothy!’

At Aslan’s cry, Dorothy’s head turned toward him.

Her eyes widened more than ever before at the sight of Aslan, her expression clouded with confusion.

A-Aslan?

Bewildered by his sudden appearance, Dorothy simultaneously became aware of her own form and didn’t know what to do.

Aslan understood immediately upon seeing it.

Dorothy was not an ordinary human.

She was none other than a Spirit.

Invasive Species kindle an instinctive aversion in people.

Much less a Spirit.

What treatment did Spirits receive within the Igrit Family?

The atrocities committed by the Spirit that contracted with the first Spirit Binder were so grave they were recorded in history itself.

And so the Igrit Family held Spirits as absolutely forbidden.

Dorothy herself was not unaware of this fact.

Just as guilt for deceiving him all this time and a tangle of other thoughts began to flood Dorothy’s mind—

Aslan felt a relief deeper than ever before.

Because Dorothy was safe.

Aslan immediately rushed to her side.

Whether she was a Spirit or anything else made no difference to him.

She was Dorothy, who had given him back his life.

‘Aslan, you idiot?! It’s dangerous! Get out of here now!’

Seeing him like this, Dorothy let out a voice thick with alarm.

No matter what her form was now, Dorothy hated the thought of Aslan being in danger more.

But Aslan felt exactly the same way.

‘If I can solve this, that’s all that matters.’
‘Wait, I’m telling you it’s dangerous!’
‘Dorothy, I’m Igrit.’

Aslan stepped forward toward the magic circle.

Heat washed over him, flushing his face, but he paid it no mind. He pressed his palms together, then spread his hands wide.

Glowing magic circles began to bloom in sequence from within his grasp.

‘Magic is my specialty, after all.’

It struck him as absurd.

That he—the very person who had grown weary of magic—was now claiming it as his expertise.

And yet only he could stand against this magic circle.

Dorothy’s eyes trembled as she watched him move forward.

Even knowing what she was, he had stepped in without hesitation—and the sight of his resolve made her bite her lip hard.

‘…Aslan, I’m a Spirit. If anyone sees us together like this, it will be disastrous.’

It might be far worse than mere family scandal.

Yeom Wang, who treasured the family above all else, would never leave him alone after learning this.

Yet Aslan’s eyes remained unchanged.

‘Yes.’

He answered simply and calmly, willing to bear it all—simply because he wanted to be with her.

Dorothy received the sincerity in those words and clenched her fists tight.

‘The arsonist used a Spirit Seed to start this fire. Ordinary magic can’t extinguish those flames. And Spirits can’t block the magic any more than humans can.’

A magic newly wrought from Spirit Seeds sold through black markets.

It was a forbidden art that forced the spiritual power within a Spirit Seed to bloom violently and burst.

The devastation was immense—Spirit Amplification Magic created by forcing a Spirit’s sacrifice, something approaching World Erosion itself.

Naturally, the Igrit Family was already investigating those who wielded such magic.

Dorothy too was in the midst of her own investigation.

She was an exceptional case among Spirits—one who possessed human-like qualities.

Created by the Spirit King’s Forest in response to the ever-advancing World Erosion, she had been brought into existence to counter the human threat.

Unlike ordinary Spirits, who could not grasp human thought, Dorothy understood humans intimately.

Regardless of the intent behind her evolution, her resemblance to humans meant she naturally took interest in them.

Magic, in particular, captivated her above all else.

So she had left the Spirit King’s Forest under the guise of a young Mage who had died for reasons unknown, and enrolled at the Academy.

And in the process, she had come to understand one crucial fact.

The young Mage named Dorothy, whose identity she had assumed, was connected to a group researching Spirit Amplification Magic.

Upon learning of that incident, Dorothy had been monitoring the group’s movements.

And when she saw that one of them had been caught in the Igrit Family’s investigation and was about to carry out a terrorist attack, she had rushed to stop it.

Only then did Aslan see the burning seed within the interior of the Explosion Magic circle.

The flame essence emanating from that place was something even Aslan could not interpret.

‘I’ll suppress the Spirit’s power.’
‘And I’ll disenchant the Magic.’

Dorothy and Aslan’s eyes met.

Both of them understood simultaneously what the other needed to do.

In the midst of the raging flames, the two exchanged smiles.

And the instant that smile faded, Dorothy and Aslan moved.

Dorothy’s Frost Magic forcefully suppressed the Spirit’s flames.

In that moment, Aslan immediately began working on Spell Disenchantment.

The foundation of the magic circle was Explosion Magic.

Moreover, it was woven with considerable sophistication—a highly advanced spell.

The arsonist’s obsession with Magic, their madness, was starkly apparent in every detail.

From the fundamental structure of Ether to the ancient Akasha Runes, the magic circle was a product of absurdly high knowledge, twisted into form with meticulous care.

‘Damn it. They’ve tangled this like a madman. At minimum, a Philosophus—a fifth Circle Mage.’

He himself was only a Theoricus, barely a third Circle Mage.

There was a gap of two Circles between him and the Mage who had inscribed this spell.

The magic circle was a labyrinth of complexity, infused with a determination to make this spell activate by any means necessary.

To the point that Aslan felt dizzy just looking at it.

Yet his eyes and hands moved without pause, frantic as madness.

He understood now why Dorothy was holding this Magic at bay.

If this detonated, not just the Academy Dormitory, but the entire surrounding area would be obliterated.

Dorothy knew this truth and was grimly, relentlessly suppressing the magic circle.

Which meant Aslan had to be all the more careful in disenchanting it.

Speed and precision—both were essential.

It was a razor’s edge, a tightrope walk where one misstep meant the end, and he had to cross it at a sprint.

Dorothy’s Frost Magic continued pouring down in real time, even now.

She was managing to hold it back well enough, but she had been straining herself since the moment he arrived.

As proof, Dorothy’s form was gradually becoming more spirit-like.

Water dripping steadily through the ice laid bare the limits of her endurance.

Time was slipping away.

Cold sweat began to bead on Aslan’s forehead.

He despised himself for having neglected Magic for so long.

Here he was, putting on airs about all manner of things, yet struggling this desperately just to dissolve a Spell Disenchantment.

‘Faster. Faster. More precisely.’

Yet even so, his hands and eyes would not falter.

His mental focus, pushed to its absolute limit, forced him into a state of hyper-concentration solely to dissolve the spell.

Drip, drip—

The intensity of Mana pooling in his eyes was so severe that blood began to trickle from the corners of his eyes.

His pupils, unwavering even for an instant, refused to stop.

‘Damn it.’

Yet he keenly felt the inadequacy of his own abilities.

‘Aslan.’

Dorothy’s voice reached his ears.

‘You can do it. If you could teach someone as foolish as me, then you can do anything.’

Now completely transformed into a spirit’s likeness, Dorothy spoke while drawing even more Frost Magic upward.

‘You’re the most incredible Mage I know.’

There was someone who believed in him.

That fact alone was enough for Aslan.

Aslan’s crimson eyes blazed brighter than ever before.

As though he had learned Magic for this moment alone.

His fingers moved like conducting a rhythm within those luminous eyes.

Dozens of magical circles began dissolving in succession from his fingertips.

The raging inferno grew stronger still, yet Aslan’s hands continued unraveling the spells.

And then, the final one.

The moment he reached it.

His index finger touched the spell circle.

Crack!

In that instant, the spell circle shattered like glass.

And from that moment onward.

Whoooosh!

The flames that had filled the surrounding air combusted in an instant and vanished.

Crumble, crumble—

The sound of charred sections of the building crumbling to ash echoed softly through the air.

Within it, Aslan was breathing slowly and deliberately, blood trickling down his cheek.

Aslan’s eyes turned to the side.

Perhaps he had consumed too much Mana in performing the precise and swift Spell Disenchantment.

His voice would not come, and his vision had grown hazy.

Yet even so, Dorothy came into sharp focus before his eyes.

Translucent ice-like skin, eyes where ice crystals seemed to be set just as the skin was, and blue hair that looked as though it had been carved piece by piece from ice.

Beneath that, Dorothy’s face was suffused with a radiant smile.

‘Aslan!’

He had protected her.

That was enough.

Just as Aslan’s consciousness was about to slip away—

Boom!

The entire Academy Dormitory began to resound.

Unable to withstand the raging flames, the building’s pillars finally gave way and collapsed.

As a result, the entire dormitory was beginning to cave in.

They were in a corner of the third floor.

The window was far too distant to escape through.

Moreover, Aslan had reached his limit and was in a state of Mana Depletion.

His fingers would not obey him.

Yet even so, as Aslan reached out to embrace Dorothy, she embraced him first.

Crash!

In that moment, the dormitory building collapsed inward, scattering pitch-black ash and smoke.

Within that chaos, Aslan fell downward and gasped for breath.

But there was no impact.

Dorothy had frozen the wreckage surrounding them, barely managing to shield them from being buried under the collapsed building.

Yet the real problem came next.

‘What—what is that?’
‘A monster—a monster!’
‘A Spirit! There’s a Spirit here!’

Amid the confusion, Aslan heard alarmed shouts erupting from all directions.

The voices of children who had evacuated in front of the Academy Dormitory and Mages who had arrived late to suppress the fire.

Fear, hostility, and countless other emotions poured from their eyes.

‘A hostage! Someone’s holding a hostage!’

The Mages shouted without knowing who had quelled the explosion.

Aslan wanted to cry out a denial, but his voice wouldn’t come.

He was fortunate not to be spitting blood.

There was no way his voice could emerge.

Aslan’s eyes shot toward Dorothy.

They had to flee immediately.

If Dorothy remained here, she would become a target for the Mages.

Dorothy knew this well.

But before she could move, flames came crashing down.

‘Back away from my son!’

A massive voice rang out, and the fire engulfed Dorothy in an instant.

Dorothy was already at her limit from suppressing the Spirit Amplification Magic.

Of course, there was no way she could dodge that inferno.

Aslan and Dorothy’s eyes met.

In that brief moment, Dorothy smiled slowly, and Aslan’s eyes widened.

‘No—!’

The moment that voice barely tore free, wrung from his throat—

-Aslan, thank you.

Along with that voice resonating in his mind, Dorothy gave him a gentle push.

And the arriving flames consumed Dorothy.

Dorothy caught fire in an instant, consumed by the inferno.

The flames were far too advanced—a Mage’s work far beyond her capacity to endure.

‘No, no, no!’

Aslan, watching the scene unfold before his eyes, screamed and spat blood.

He lunged toward the burning Dorothy, but another’s hand seized his arm first.

‘Aslan! It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right!’

It was his mother, Agatha.

While investigating the Mages who had tampered with forbidden magic, she had received word of the Academy Dormitory fire and rushed to the scene.

The culprit had been caught, fortunately.

The arsonist was none other than a professor who worked at the Academy.

Caught during the investigation, he had finally unleashed his madness one last time upon the Academy Dormitory.

Upon arriving, Agatha saw a Spirit attacking Aslan, and concluded it was another Spirit the arsonist had prepared.

Desperate to save her son, she immediately burned the Spirit to ash with all her power.

But what Agatha had done meant nothing to Aslan.

Dorothy was burning.

That alone was all that mattered to him.

In that final moment when she pushed him away, her laughter blazed vividly in his memory.

‘Dorothy……’

Crying out her name was his last act before Mana Depletion claimed him, and consciousness slipped away.

That day was the day Aslan broke.

And yet now, Aslan had come this far to meet Dorothy once more.

He despised himself—the man he had been, who had abandoned hope of saving Dorothy and chosen death instead.

He should have thrashed and fought to resurrect her, again and again, without end.

She had saved him, yet he had wanted to die simply because he could find no way to save her in return—and the self-loathing that thought stirred in him was suffocating.

“That’s why.”

Aslan opened his lips beneath the water, crying out toward the radiant Spirit King’s Egg.

“Dorothy, let’s meet again.”

I will regret and atone for those abandoned days, again and again.

So let us meet again, Aslan pleaded through his tears.

For I have yet to hear your answer.

In that instant, the entire lake was engulfed in radiant light.

Within the brilliant glow, the Spirit King’s Egg that Aslan held began to crack slowly.

Then, the moment Aslan lifted the egg gently in his hand, all those points of light rushed toward it at once.

Whisper—

Transparent blue hair scattered before Aslan’s eyes.

His eyes widened wider than they ever had before.

The girl drifting in the water trembled as her closed eyes slowly opened.

Seeing this, Aslan smiled slowly even as tears streamed down his cheeks in the water.

“Dorothy.”
“Ah, Aslan?”

His arms reached out and pulled her close.

A vow burned deep within him—that he would never lose her again.

Her return was the moment hope came flooding back, the moment he could live again.

And then Krash came to mind.

His benefactor was now facing his own grandfather.

“Dorothy, I’ll explain everything later.”

He had to leave now.

＊ ＊ ＊

Clang!

Amid the ringing clash of blades.

Krash’s eyes moved frantically.

He was desperately batting away dozens of fireballs hurled at him with his instinct and dull blade.

And before him stood Adolf, looking far too relaxed.

True to his reputation as one of the Ten Strongest under Heaven, Adolf was formidable.

Krash had never harbored any illusions about winning from the start.

If Adolf were to fight with his full strength, Krash would have been finished long ago.

This engagement was only possible because Krash had calculated that Adolf would hold back.

‘But then again.’

Krash swatted away every fireball that came at him and took a large step back.

‘That casual attitude of his really gets under my skin.’

His plan had been simple: buy time until Aslan could resurrect Dorothy.

But looking at that face, he knew he had to reconsider.

Now he understood why Aslan despised and resented Adolf so deeply.

He’d only faced the man briefly, yet found himself brought to this state—Aslan, who’d endured him day after day, must have suffered infinitely more.

That alone made him want to land one decisive blow.

—Krash.

In that moment, Crimson Garden’s voice reached him.

—The Spirit has awakened.

And that was catalyst enough for Krash to shatter through his limits.

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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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