I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 7

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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 7. Star of Holy Ground

Star of Holy Ground.

Krashue let out a hollow laugh at the name, grandiose no matter how many times he turned it over in his mind.

It had the ring of noble-born pride—unmistakably, unabashedly high.

Then again, these were the ones who believed themselves the future that would lead Starlon forward.

It made sense, in a way.

‘Reality’s a ruin, though.’

Did these people understand what nobility demanded of them?

In this world, the nobility earned respect precisely because they stood against World Erosion on behalf of everyone else.

Some felt that obligation, and trained daily for it.

Others felt nothing of the sort, content to indulge in parties instead—that was the reality.

Krashue wondered how many genuinely worthy members actually belonged to this gathering called Star of Holy Ground.

Inside the lurching carriage.

Star of Holy Ground, where he and Bianca were headed, lay some distance beyond Balhaim.

As a result, Krashue found himself committed to a full day’s journey by carriage.

He watched Bianca across from him, her head nodding gently forward.

Though she favored reading, the swaying of the carriage made it difficult—perhaps that was why.

After sitting dazed for so long, sleep had suddenly taken hold of her, and now she dozed.

‘Quiet the whole time, and now this.’

For Krashue, carriage time meant cultivating his Aura.

But Bianca, lacking such options, could hardly be blamed for drowsiness.

The problem was that carriages—

Thud!

—hit rough patches in the road, and would lurch unpredictably.

Just then, as Bianca sat with her head bowed, the carriage lurched, and her body pitched forward.

At her young age and slight frame, she was light as a feather.

So when the carriage jolted, she was thrown forward helplessly.

Krashue quickly reached out, caught her, and let out a breath of relief.

As he lowered his gaze, Bianca stared back at him with wide, startled eyes.

“Krashue?”

Krashue looked at her for a moment, then rose from his seat.

He dropped down beside her and gently guided her head onto his lap.

“Sleep.”

Caught off guard by the sudden lap pillow, Bianca glanced up at him.

For all his gruffness, she could feel the tenderness beneath.

Her eyes slipped shut, and she surrendered to sleep.

Bianca’s soft snoring became the carriage’s ambient soundtrack as she drifted deeper.

Krashue turned his gaze beyond the carriage window to the passing landscape.

Perhaps because this was his first time traveling this route.

The streets felt unfamiliar, nothing like what he remembered.

By the time the carriage journey had stretched through most of the day, idly marveling at places he’d forgotten existed,

Krashue arrived at a grand estate built on an island in the middle of a lake.

The building, accessible via a bridge at its center, was the Ara Yong-gwan—once the region’s most celebrated destination.

But today the inn had been rented entirely for a gathering of Starlon’s noble youth: the Star of Holy Ground.

Since the Star of Holy Ground rotated its meeting locations,

they had spared no expense in their extravagance.

Krashue stepped out of the carriage first, surveying the Ara Yong-gwan.

“What a waste. Absolutely wasteful.”

Since being cast out from House Balhaim and sent to Rahelern Academy,

Krashue had received almost nothing beyond basic support.

With his properly calibrated sense of money, such extravagance looked nothing short of offensive.

“Krashue.”

At that moment, Bianca opened the carriage door and stepped out.

She rubbed her eyes, searching for Krashue with sleep-hazed vision.

Lately, the moment she woke, she looked for him.

“You’re up. You were snoring like crazy.”
“I don’t snore.”

She answered him with sudden seriousness.

“No, you definitely were.”
“I don’t snore.”

Watching her stubbornness flower in the strangest places, Krashue shrugged and turned to Aliod.

Aliod retrieved a cloak he’d prepared and draped it over Bianca’s shoulders.

“It’s cold out. Wear it properly.”

At Krashue’s words, Bianca fastened the garment.

“Ah, coming from the North, I suppose this chill won’t bother me much.”

When Bianca said this—wondering if Krashue had overstepped—she shook her head.

“It’s warm.”

The cloak’s gentle warmth quickly erased the winter’s bite.

“Let’s go in.”
“Yes.”
“Please be careful, both of you.”

As Krashue began to move, Bianca followed behind him like a chick trailing its mother.

The interior of Ara Yong-gwan displayed the same opulent lobby as the exterior.

“Welcome. You’ve come to Ara Yong-gwan.”

An attendant approached and greeted them both.

Krashue drew a letter from his pocket and presented it.

“Confirmed. The party hall is on the eighth floor. I shall guide you there.”

The eighth floor—the highest in Ara Yong-gwan, and the one that demanded the deepest pockets.

Hearing they’d chosen that level for the venue, Krashue clicked his tongue and followed the attendant.

Moments later, the magical lift carried them both up to the eighth floor.

Attendants in fine clothes stood in neat rows, and as Krashue and Bianca passed, they bowed in unison.

“Krashue of House Balhaim and Bianca of House Hadenhartz now enter!”

As an attendant announced them grandly, the party hall doors swung open.

In that instant, the eyes of everyone inside snapped toward them.

“House Balhaim?”
“If it’s Krashue, that’s the youngest, right?”
“The runt of House Balhaim.”

The moment Krashue stepped inside, murmurs rippled through the crowd.

For Krashue, this level of gossip was nothing new.

At Rahelern Academy, he’d endured far worse.

Yet among such whispers, the truly dangerous ones stood apart.

“House Balhaim? Now this is interesting!”
“Balak, sit still.”

Krashue’s eyes caught sight of a group in the distance.

One of them was a man with a feline upper body, marked with patterns like a tiger’s stripes across his arm.

The other must have been fourteen by now, yet carried an unusually tall frame—a woman whose bearing somehow evoked a magpie.

But what grated on him most was the man seated at their center.

Chestnut hair and eyes with a slight droop at the corners—handsome enough features, though there was something unsettling about them.

Anix Griza, one of the Generation of the Sky and known as the Wood Bow.

Truly, they were the strongest in this party.

And unlike the others, they were ones who had already awakened their talents.

The Three Greats who would later represent Starlon—that was the name given to them.

All three of them were regarding Krashue with keen interest.

Yet that interest bore no friendly meaning.

‘It had to be.’

Because of an incident that had occurred at the Star of Holy Ground.

And through that incident, they had felt the overwhelming gap between House Balhaim and common martial clans.

‘Charlotte had beaten down twenty Martial Faction nobles from the Star of Holy Ground all by herself.’

Without a scratch on her own body, crushing them utterly.

After that incident, Charlotte had not shown her face at the Star of Holy Ground again.

Krashue had learned of the incident when Aliod had told him about the Star of Holy Ground.

And the way he’d come to know of it had been rather odd as well.

Because Charlotte had come to him directly and told him about it herself.

‘She’d deliberately worn a form-fitting dress with the chest exposed, meant to provoke them.’

The sight of her appearing before him in that dress, cackling with laughter, had been nothing short of terrifying to Krashue.

For Charlotte was the one person Krashue knew who came closest to pure malice.

‘Unpleasant memories.’

As he found himself drowning in displeasure, he noticed his gaze had shifted to Bianca.

“House Hadenhartz means the ruler of the North?”
“Bianca? That girl they call the Snow Maiden, yes? I heard there was an engagement announcement with House Balhaim.”
“One’s a cursed child, the other’s a half-wit. A waste of such looks while they’re still young.”
“Don’t stare at her. You’ll catch the curse.”

Since she had come with him, Bianca too was drawing no small amount of scorn.

While he didn’t much mind the jabs directed at himself, Krashue’s eyes flashed sharply at those who dared lump Bianca in with the mockery.

His eyes, fierce to begin with, twisted into something uglier still—and those who’d trembled at the very name of House Balhaim looked away instinctively.

For men who lived by power, greater power was a terror all its own.

“Krashue.”

It was then that Bianca, who’d been following behind, called out to him.

Wondering if something troubled her, he turned—and she reached up to gently catch his collar.

“Don’t mind what others say.”

Krashue stared at her for a moment, his expression one of pure bewilderment.

‘Does this girl not even hear herself being insulted?’

Krashue looked at her, then let out a snort.

“I don’t mind it either.”

House Balhaim frightened him far more than idle gossip ever could.

“Mind what?” Bianca asked.

At her question, Krashue closed his mouth and turned to walk on.

He’d have to watch his tongue around her, he thought.

* * *

Even after the two arrived, guests continued to stream in, and the party pressed on.

In the fuss of it all, the Star of Holy Ground’s own elite chattered away among themselves, and Bianca and Krashue slipped from their minds as quickly as they’d come.

‘He didn’t come.’

Krashue had journeyed here expecting him—the one he’d come to see—for it was the Star of Holy Ground, where Starlon’s ten greatest noble houses gathered.

That absence left him hollow.

Then, in that moment—

“Darling Danfelion is arriving!”

The steward’s voice rang out, and a figure swept through the threshold.

First to catch the eye was hair of deep gold, braided and pinned up.

A sharp nose, and a bright smile that flooded her face like morning sun itself.

She stood of average height, her frame lean and graceful, yet unlike the other women in their dresses, she wore a skirt and trousers both at once.

Her top, too, bore frills yet was cut simply in an unconventional way—and drew every eye in the hall at once.

“Arriving at such a late hour—I see she does love making an entrance.”
“Tch, what a character.”
“Ah, Darling, you look splendid as always.”

Strangely enough, opinions about her were wildly divided.

And from Krashue’s perspective, she was an eccentric among eccentrics.

And she was precisely the reason Krashue had come to the Star of Holy Ground.

‘There’s no way a attention-seeker like her would miss a gathering where all her peers show up.’

His prediction hit the mark exactly.

“Hello everyone, hello!”

The moment she arrived and began greeting everyone with barely contained excitement, Krashue moved without hesitation.

“Bianca, wait for me here.”
“Mm, understood.”

Bianca, in the middle of biting into a piece of meat Krashue had brought her, answered with her mouth covered.

She was good at waiting alone anyway, so there’d be no problem.

With that settled, Krashue made his way through the crowd toward Darling, who was surrounded by people.

At the sight of him, those gathered around Darling began backing away quietly.

Nobody wanted trouble by getting tangled up with Krashue.

Thanks to that, Krashue found himself standing before Darling with ease.

Darling tilted her head at the sight of him.

“Hmm? I haven’t seen you around before.”

Darling was three years older than him.

Perhaps because she treated him like a child, she tilted her head again, observing the reactions of the people beside her and Krashue’s expression.

“Hmm, I feel like I’ve seen that face somewhere….”
“Krashue Balhaim.”

The moment he introduced himself, Darling’s pupils flickered with recognition.

At the same time, her eyes filled with interest.

Of course they did.

After all, she was a screw-loose girl who was wildly devoted to Charlotte.

And not the kind of fan enthusiasm—genuine devotion.

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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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