I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills

Chapter 66 I Came to Pick a Fight

In a clearing one afternoon, a woman was brandishing a sword. Her hair, a blend of black and gold and tied back short, was distinctive. Each swing of her sword cleaved the air, a clear sound slicing through the quiet. Then, amidst the ringing of steel, a set of footsteps echoed.

“Wow, practicing every day like this. Is this why you made it to master?”

At the same time, a portly man with a greasy laugh emerged. Even with his appearance, the woman continued her silent sword dance. The man settled himself on a bench provided at the training ground without much care.

“Or are you swinging your sword to forget being defeated by Nakcheon?”

The woman’s swordplay halted abruptly at those words. She was Lakradiyon, known as the Light of Demonic Bastion, and the only person to have reached the threshold of master level there. Drops of sweat poured off her like rain as her eyes slowly shifted towards the man with obvious displeasure. Seeing her look, the man simply smirked.

“Don’t glare at me with those pretty eyes like that. It’s thrilling.”

“Derrick, did you come here to pick a fight? I thought the place you were hit last time for running your mouth hadn’t healed yet.”

“No, I came because I heard a story that’ll make our Lakradiyon’s heart race. Or maybe you’ve already heard it.”

The man, Derrick, rummaged through his pocket and with a flick, sent a paper airplane gliding towards Lakradiyon. She caught it and unfolded the paper, quickly realizing it was an announcement.

“Balheim’s direct heir is challenging Nakcheon. He’s gathering people to join him.”

“…And what’s that to me?”

“It means Nakcheon might fall before you get another chance to challenge him.”

Lakradiyon’s brows twitched. She tore the paper and tossed it to the floor.

“It has nothing to do with me.”

Derrick sighed deeply.

“Lak, I know how you felt the day you were broken by Nakcheon. He’s a disaster, a monster. And you’ve been swinging your sword alone, trying to overcome that monster.”

He rose from his seat, continuing.

“But how long will you remain bound by Nakcheon? It’s stubbornness, obsession. You could be exploring a bigger world.”

Derrick was once her comrade, pained by the thought of her being tied down by the tragedy named Nakcheon.

“Think about it this time. Seeing Nakcheon being defeated might change your mind.”

With that, Derrick left. Lakradiyon’s gaze lingered on the torn announcement.

Nakcheon defeated?josei

She scoffed inwardly. Derrick’s words were unlikely to come to fruition. Nakcheon was a true ghost, beyond mere skill. Just as she couldn’t overcome him with her swordsmanship, Balheim would likely face the same outcome, she thought.

‘…I just got distracted from training.’

With a frustrating thought, she resumed her training, which continued well into the evening. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, her stomach growled—a sign that it was time for a late meal. She went to her usual room for a quick wash before heading to her favored eatery.

“Pff, that kid sitting there with his steward, looking all clueless—priceless.”

“Nakcheon’s defeat, it won’t be by some newcomer, but by our Pendalord. Balheim, strutting around like they own the place. Right, boss?”

“Obviously.”

As she heard the raucous voices inside the tavern, Lakradiyon’s eyebrows furrowed.

‘Came for a late dinner and there are already guests.’

After all, this was the best place for food near Demonic Bastion. It wasn’t unusual for others to be there, but these were members of a group she wasn’t on good terms with.

The group centered around Pendal, an expert of the highest caliber, called Pendalord. His ego was evident from the team named after him. And indeed, he reigned like a king within Demonic Bastion.

“Huh?”

When Lakradiyon entered, Pendal’s eyes turned towards her. His grey hair paired with a wolf tattoo, the symbol of Pendalord, peeked out from under his shirt. His face flushed from drink, a sign he’d been indulging.

“Well look who it is, Lady Lakradiyon. Training again today?”

Ignoring him, she proceeded to her usual spot. Pendal, undeterred by her cold shoulder, stood up with a sly grin.

“Don’t be so frosty. Let’s talk, former comrade.”

Holding a bottle, Pendal sidled up to her table, unconcerned by her disregard.

“You’ve heard, haven’t you? Balheim’s direct heir himself has taken up the challenge against Nakcheon. Even you, the Light of Demonic Bastion, hasn’t dared challenge Nakcheon yet.”

“…”

“And the heir is just a kid, not even fully grown. Struts around without even knowing who rules Demonic Bastion.”

The Pendalord crew hastily took action, warning others not to respond to Balheim’s recruitment call. They had acted on their own, but Pendal didn’t stop them; he, too, was displeased with Balheim, flaunting their presence in Demonic Bastion.

“…The owner of Demonic Bastion?”

At last, Lakradiyon spoke, turning a cold gaze towards Pendal as he prattled on. The intensity in her eyes made even Pendal hesitate.

“Where is this so-called owner? You were there that day, Pendal. You faced Nakcheon with me. And yet you still hold yourself up as great for just being from the 8th floor?”

Lakradiyon, at the threshold of master level and now thirty, knew the harsh truth. In this vast world of billions, there were less than four digits worth of masters. More than half of them were stuck at the entry level of mastery. The wall between the highest rank of experts and master level was high, and the path from entry to intermediate was even steeper.

And there was Pendal, still at the peak of expert. He could barely hold a candle to her due to a few unique conditions, yet he struggled to enter masterhood.

“How are we any different from that day?”

Pendal’s question closed Lakradiyon’s mouth. While he had given up progressing and spent the last five years as if he owned Demonic Bastion, creating the Pendalord crew, Lakradiyon had never put her sword down, continuing to train beyond the age of marriage.

Still, despite her daily swordsmanship, she remained just at the entry level of mastery. Pendal, too, had not advanced beyond the expert level he had been that day.

“So, no matter what we do, we end up in the same loathsome reality, don’t we?”

Lakradiyon looked down. Even though others might revere the realm of masters, those who had reached it knew the truth. Ascending beyond that was the realm of true geniuses.

Lakradiyon was stuck before that wall.

“Come to your senses, Lak. No matter our efforts, we’re trapped in Demonic Bastion forever. We’ll never escape this place.”

Pendal said, picking up his bottle again.

“…Even so.”

Lakradiyon opened her mouth once more.

“I will continue to swing my sword.”

Pendal shrugged with a resigned look.

“Ah, suit yourself then.”

Thinking it a waste of energy, he turned back to rejoin his crew and continue drinking. But as he returned to his seat, he noticed an unusual silence. Puzzled, he then saw someone in the seat he’d recently vacated.

“Finished with your chit-chat?”

“You.”

Recognizing the newcomer, Pendal’s realization dawned. The dark hair and blue eyes were unmistakable.

Kraush Balheim.

The very Balheim heir who’d come to Demonic Bastion. Pendal’s brow furrowed at the confidence and the gaze that seemed to know everything.

‘This brat, he knows I’ve been interfering.’

Pendal approached Kraush with swagger. Though still growing, Kraush stood nearly as tall as Pendal, who tried to use his height to intimidate.

“What brings Mr. Balheim here?”

Hearing the mention of Balheim, Lakradiyon turned to look as well. But Kraush calmly rose from his chair.

“I’m usually quite generous.”

His sudden comment hung in the air.

“But I have no mercy for those who interfere with me.”

“Ha, so are you suggesting we duel?”

Pendal scoffed, seeing before him just a kid who’d barely stepped into the highest rank of expert. Kraush was undoubtedly a prodigy, especially for his age.

“Well, of course. He’s Balheim’s direct heir.”

But to Pendal, that also meant Kraush was still beneath him. The difference between someone new to the top rank of experts and one who had gathered experience there was clear. Pendal stood right before the wall of mastery; the gap between him and Kraush was evident.

“Top-ranked experts aren’t common. Even the Balheim Knights would consider you employable.”

Even under Pendal’s threat, Kraush’s tone remained even.

Pendal looked puzzled by his words, then Kraush allowed a smile.

“So, Pendal, I’d like to hire you for the Balheim Knights.”

Pendal paused.

The Balheim Knights.

Being king in Demonic Bastion was one thing, but being inside the ranks of Balheim was a whole different story. Here, you could never escape being a back-alley thug. Pendal knew all too well the disdain from knights of lesser stature, their families’ prestige preventing him from retaliating.

But within Balheim?

Those same knights would look up to him. A flash of greed crossed his eyes; he’d accumulated enough power and wealth in Demonic Bastion. What he sought now was recognition.

“…Is that for real?”

“Sure, bring all these guys along too.”

The prospect of having his entire Pendalord crew hired caused Pendal to swallow hard, greed evident in his gaze. Kraush smiled slowly.

“The name Balheim Dog Troupe would suit you. Just like dogs, good at barking.”

Pendal stiffened at the words as indignation flared across his face.

“…Are you mocking me?”

Kraush’s face lost all traces of amusement as he turned to Pendal. The disdain for someone who boasted of being king in Demonic Bastion but showed true colors when faced with Balheim’s offer was repulsive.

“Yeah, I am mocking you, you fool.”

After all, provocation was his specialty.