I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills - Chapter 77

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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 77. Nakteon

Krash arrived late at the carriage area.

There lay Pendal, his chest nearly torn away, while the white-robed mage Olivia wept openly before him, pouring healing magic into his body.

Beside her stood Lacradian with bowed head, and Vice-Captain Soldrick, his lips pressed tight, fighting to contain his emotions.

Only then did Lacradian sense Krash’s presence and lift her head.

“…Krash, you’re safe.”
“Yeah.”

She spoke with wavering eyes.

Krash answered curtly and glanced sideways at Crimson Garden.

“What happened?”

He posed the question in a voice only Crimson Garden would hear.

-The clone fired a fireball that Lacradian couldn’t evade, so Pendal took the hit instead. After that, when you sent the Armed Princess elsewhere, all the clones collapsed. Hence the state he’s in.

At these words, Krash’s eyes widened.

‘Pendal sacrificed himself?’

Krash remembered Pendal from before the Regression.

He had lived like a rogue of the Demonic Palace, committing every manner of atrocity.

Krash knew firsthand—he’d suffered Pendal’s cruelty himself.

How corrupted that man truly was.

So he’d assumed the present Pendal wouldn’t be much different.

Because Pendal had actually hindered Krash’s group before.

‘But he saved Lacradian?’

It was a moment of confusion for Krash.

“Lak, go, now.”

Calling her by her old nickname, he pushed forward the Okcheon.

She silently accepted the Okcheon and, for just an instant, recalled Kaeran, who had once been the captain of Icarus.

But there was no time to dwell in memory.

“Pendal.”
“…It was, supposed to go to, you. I just, kept it because, you wouldn’t take it.”

Pendal spoke with difficulty.

“Captain, stop talking!”

Olivia cried out, but Pendal paid her no mind.

Instead, he only stared at Lacradian with eyes already glazing over.

“I will carry it forward.”

Rather than question why he had been saved, Lacradian prioritized his will, bowing her head as she spoke.

Pendal seemed satisfied. He turned back toward Krash.

“Bal… heim’s direct line.”

With a feeble smile, he exhaled in shallow gasps.

“Pro… tect… didn’t… protect.”

Blood welled up suddenly and spilled down over Pendal’s lips in a crimson stream.

Hearing Pendal’s apology, Krash slowly wiped his brow.

He had seen too many deaths to count.

From wars between humans to conflicts with World Erosion entities, and even when World Erosion had spread in its most catastrophic form, the unraveling world had taken countless lives.

Among them had been a few people Krash had come to care for.

Those who survived that ruined world were, in effect, only Arthur, himself, and those three.

So it was no exaggeration to say Krash had witnessed the death of everyone he knew.

“Lak, rash… Nakteon… defeat him… for me.”

Yet as Krash watched Pendal die, the emotion stirring in him now was different from anything he had felt before.

Krash had not truly bonded with Pendal.

If anything, they had been enemies.

Pendal was, for Krash, the sort of person he could barely even call a passing acquaintance.

So what was this emotion Krash felt now?

The answer was simple.

‘All I did was Regress, and yet I’m so trapped by that? How pathetic am I?’

A deep shame washed over Krash toward himself.

A single, fleeting encounter.

How foolish had he been to define someone entirely by what he saw in that moment and act on that judgment alone.

People change endlessly with the times.

‘Making judgments with such shallow conviction. How arrogant of me.’

Krash ground his teeth together.

In what way was he any different from Arthur now?

Arthur, who had already repeated far more cycles than he had, kept failing to save the world from annihilation—and in the end, had even lost his Regression to him. Why?

It would be because Arthur, having watched Krash through all those countless cycles, had concluded that he would remain frozen at that level forever.

Arthur had made an assumption.

That Krash’s skills could at best strip away curses or plunder them—but stealing unique abilities like skills themselves was beyond his reach.

So Arthur had let his guard down in front of Krash and revealed the existence of the Regression skill.

Without knowing what consequences it would bring.

‘What arrogance.’

Now Krash was evaluating this man called Pendal based on his memories before the Regression, and had drawn a conclusion.

So he was furious with himself.

Unlike Arthur, Krash’s Regression would only happen once.

Whether a second Regression would even be possible—no one knew.

Because Regression wasn’t held directly in Krash’s grasp.

If he couldn’t prevent annihilation in this cycle, the world was finished.

Krash truly believed this, and he was giving everything he had.

‘To protect this miserable world.’

He had to break free from the habit of relying only on Regression.

People change countless times.

He had learned this through himself, and had come to understand it completely through the bonds he’d formed with Bianca and others after the Regression.

He would never forget this fact.

“Pendal.”

So Krash spoke to Pendal.

“I came into the Demonic Palace today with all of you.”

Pendal listened silently to Krash’s words.

Because he understood what that meant.

“And I will defeat Nakteon with all of you and open the 9th Floor.”
“Ha…….”

Pendal made a short sound, then swallowed a laugh.

“Noble words, befitting a nobleman, truly.”

Though the mockery was evident, there lay something deeper in his laughter—as if to say there was no death more peaceful than this.

With that, Pendal’s eyes closed.

“Captain, Captain! Captain!”

Olivia screamed out Pendal’s name in desperation.

Yet no matter her cries, Pendal’s body would not move again.

“Olivia.”

The moment she began to sob, Soldrick wrapped his arms around her.

“Let him go now.”
Her weeping echoed softly against his chest.

Krash turned to face Lacradian, leaving Olivia there, cradled in Soldrick’s embrace.

At that moment, Lacradian rose from her position.

“Krash Balheim.”

But just then, Soldrick called out to Krash.

“All the obstacles we’ve faced—they were my doing. I gave the orders——”
“That’s enough.”

In the end, we did gain time to prepare for the Armed Princess.

“See that Pendal is brought back properly.”

With that, Krash turned and began to walk away.

As Krash raised his hand where the three could not see, a faint spark traced across his palm.

‘Liioner.’

It was none other than Pendal’s skill.

In that final moment, Krash had stolen Pendal’s Liioner through the Black Hood.

[You shall be recognized as a worthy opponent and beyond.]

The second Dial had already broken open, and with it came the third.

[You shall inherit Pendal’s will.]

For the sake of that Dial, Krash had spoken those final words to him.

And with the Dial released, Krash had been able to steal the Liioner.

‘Call it cowardly if you will.’

This wretched world seemed to offer no path to preventing its ruin except by consuming everything this way.

On that first day after his Regression, he had resolved to devour whatever came his way, stand at the very apex, and prevent that collapse no matter the cost.

And so Krash had stolen Pendal’s Liioner.

‘At the very least.’

I won’t let it be for nothing.

＊ ＊ ＊

Nakteon.

Sitting alone in the foremost room of the 8th Floor Carriage Area.

Once a conqueror who had challenged the Demonic Palace, now a man swallowed whole by it—a figure of bitter fate.

Krash stood before the final door, resolved to strike him down.

After resting in the carriage for about a day, catching what sleep he could, Krash worked through his body with light sword swings, loosening his limbs.

The aftermath of his battle with the Armed Princess, perhaps.

His body still ached in places, but thanks to the Woleum Body trait, he’d recovered faster than expected.

In this condition, he might not be able to defeat Nakteon.

But now it was different.

He had obtained Pendal’s Liioner.

Krash had tested it in secret yesterday, away from prying eyes, and he was certain—with this, he could bring Nakteon down.

“Lacradian, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir. We may depart at your command.”

Hearing her response, Krash nodded.

“Let’s go.”

He raised his hand and pushed the door open.

Creak—

A rusted hinge shrieked as Krash’s eyes fell upon the creaking carriage chamber beyond.

This carriage section was unlike the others.

The chairs stood empty, and the wooden floor bore cracks and scars scattered here and there.

But the most striking feature was that there was only a single door.

Before that door, an old man sat waiting with a single sword held in a long scabbard.

An elder bearing the Uraethseong—as if carved from wood struck by lightning, its surface black with white lightning streaks running through it.

Nakteon.

The one who had long guarded the entrance to the 9th Floor sat there, his eyebrows drooping white with age.

Creak, thud—

The moment Krash caught sight of him and confirmed Lacradian’s entry, he shut the carriage door.

At that, the old man’s shoulders twitched, beginning with the closed door.

At the same moment, his body creaked and groaned as he began to push himself upright.

He couldn’t say how long he’d remained motionless, but the sound was like bones being reassembled from scratch.

And that sound itself spoke volumes—no one had entered the 8th Floor in all this time.

Nakteon’s eyes flared crimson as he rose to his feet.

“Lacradian, you understand what’s expected.”

Seeing Nakteon like this, Krash called out to Lacradian.

He had explained to her beforehand how to stop Nakteon.

While Krash burned all the carriages with Ignis, she was to hold her own against Nakteon and endure.

That was Lacradian’s task.

And so the moment she drew Okcheon, she took her place before Krash.

“Yes.”

With those words, Nakteon unsheathed Uraethseong.

But the blade that emerged had no edge.

The empty blade stirred questions in those who beheld it.

A blade without an edge meant the sword itself couldn’t function as it should.

Yet in that moment, as if to prove why Uraethseong ranked among the world’s ten greatest celestial blades, golden light erupted from the hilt.

Boom!

With the sound of thunder, the blazing golden light unleashed a force so intense it reversed the very atmosphere around them.

And in the instant that golden light compressed and contracted—

a golden blade materialized, its edge rippling with power and glinting with lethal sharpness.

A blade forged by amplifying the wielder’s Aura.

Uraethseong.

Depending on whose hands held it, Uraethseong became either the finest sword in all the world, capable of cutting through anything, or the worst—cutting nothing at all.

And so all who wielded swords spoke of it thus:

If the world’s greatest swordmaster were to choose a blade, none would suit him better than Uraethseong.

And this was precisely why Krash had fought so desperately to keep Uraethseong from falling into Keshon’s hands.

Boom!

Now, met by Nakteon, Uraethseong blazed with that golden radiance.

That overwhelming golden light—dazzling enough to unsettle anyone—made Lacradian tense.

For that golden brilliance revealed Nakteon’s true level.

“He’s coming.”

The words had barely left Krash’s lips.

As Lacradian hastily raised her blade, Nakteon was already upon her.

Clang!

Moving in time with Nakteon’s stride, Lacradian blocked the Uraethseong with her Okcheon.

Yet her own body reeled violently from the impact.

Despite the age-worn frame, Nakteon’s strength was in a different league entirely.

Now she understood.

Now she grasped why Icarus had crumbled so thoroughly before him that day, and why Kaeran—their captain—had thrown himself into the teeth of death to buy them an escape.

Whoosh!

At the sound of flames roaring from behind, Lacradian’s breath caught.

Krash had begun his work in earnest, driving black fire blooming from the Black Sword deep into the carriage and setting it ablaze.

Nakteon’s gaze shifted backward.

He too had noticed Krash’s deliberate move.

But Lacradian stepped forward at once, placing herself squarely in his line of sight.

A silent declaration: to reach Krash, you must go through me.

‘My role is to buy time.’

She would show him that this time was different from before—that she would not run.

“Come.”

The moment the word left her lips, Nakteon and Lacradian collided.

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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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