I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills

Leading Pendalord, a presence akin to the darkness of Demonic Bastion, was Pendal himself, now crossing the seventh floor. At his side were his team members who had been guiding Pendalord alongside him. Among them, a white mage, a scout, and adding to that, one close-combat specialist and two mages. As could be expected from those selected by Pendal, their skills were outstanding even within the ranks of the Bastion.

“Captain.”

It was at that moment a woman with crimson-tinted hair, dressed in a robe, called out to Pendal. Visible through her robe was a figure that would draw any man’s attention, clothed in fabric spun from the threads of the rare red spider, a material only found in Demonic Bastion. Her skills and wealth were beyond question.

With a troubled look, she addressed Pendal cautiously.

“…Captain, I respect your determination to challenge Nakcheon again, but are you truly sure it’s wise?”

Pendal continued walking in silence. Nakcheon was considered a lifelong barrier to those dwelling within the Bastion. Despite the legendary Team Black Lion disbanding a while ago, Nakcheon remained as a wraith on the eighth floor, defending his post. Countless challengers had been brutally destroyed before this monster.

Pendal’s decision to challenge Nakcheon again was driven by stubborn pride, heated further by witnessing Lakradiyon and a Balheim heir’s advance, almost as if prompted by their reflection.

“If my actions displease you, you’re free to turn back.”

When Pendal sharply rebuked her, the woman sighed. The other team members shared the sentiment.

“Without Pendal, where would Pendalord stand in the Bastion?”

They unanimously showed their determination not to leave him. Pendal looked at them for a long moment before turning away.

“Unworthy fools.”

With those words, Pendal focused ahead. Having taken a shortcut, he was reaching the eighth floor much quicker than Kraush and Lakradiyon.

‘If that’s the case…’

He would be the first to challenge Nakcheon. Clutching his long sword, not the hook sword he usually carried, Pendal drew the blade that once belonged to Kairan, captain of Team Icarus, which included Lakradiyon and Pendal. It was the sword Okcheon (Jade Heaven), not as renowned as Rain Thunder Prime, but nonetheless a famous blade. Even though Kairan, the former captain, had fallen before Nakcheon, this time would be different. Pendal had resolved to inherit Kairan’s will to conquer the entire Bastion.

“Pendalord will be the one to defeat Nakcheon.”

Having made this declaration to his followers, they looked at Pendal’s eyes, shining with resolution, and broke into bright smiles.

“That goes without saying.”

“We’re the kings of Demonic Bastion!”

Pendal inhaled deeply as his team rejoiced. Unlike Lakradiyon, who had doggedly swung her sword against the wall, Pendal had turned his back on that wall. Instead, he had chosen to look behind him, pulling along those who continued to enter the Bastion in the aftermath of Team Icarus’s failure.

If Lakradiyon had continued to swing her sword at the wall, Pendal had dragged those behind him along. He knew he couldn’t overcome the wall alone, so he chose to ascend it with others. Even after Nakcheon had crushed him, Pendal was determined to move forward in his way—a fact unbeknownst to Kraush, who would only meet Pendal later on after Lakradiyon had crumbled against that wall, and Pendal himself had fallen too, a tale for another time.

Darkness exists because there is light.

“…Have you prepared it discreetly?”

Just then, another mage, a middle-aged man, asked a question to the swordsman behind. This man was none other than Soldrik, the vice-captain of Pendalord. The swordsman nodded slowly in response to Soldrik’s query.

“Yes, I’ve ordered the minions. Ensure that Lakradiyon and the Balheim heir never reach the eighth floor.”

“Well done.”

Soldrik swallowed his breath quietly. He didn’t mind being called a coward. After all, if it came out later that he had acted alone, there would be no issue. But, for the time being, he was determined not to let anyone interfere with Pendalord’s challenge against Nakcheon, for the sake of their captain, Pendal, who had toiled for this moment.

＊ ＊ ＊

The seventh floor, The Mechanical Labyrinth.

Entirely composed of gears and mechanical walls, the place truly lived up to the name of a labyrinth. Numerous traps and mechanical monsters sprung up unexpectedly, and at times, the walls of the maze would shift on their own, making the pathfinding even more challenging. The goal in the seventh floor was to escape this mechanical labyrinth, depending solely on luck or exceptional observational skills, highlighting the crucial role of the scout.

However, Kraush and Lakradiyon were currently facing a wall together without the scout Derrick and the white mage Penichelri, leaving just the two of them.

“…What’s your plan?”

The recent event was none other than a trap set by Pendalord’s minions, unfolding as soon as they entered the seventh floor. Shortly after their arrival, they were ambushed. Naturally, Pendalord’s minions could not amount to much against Kraush and Lakradiyon, who had swiftly overcome even Pendal himself. But the problem arose from there.

As the mechanical maze’s walls began to shift, Derrick and Penichelri were separated from the duo.

“Penichelri! Derrick!”

Lakradiyon rushed to the wall, but it had already sealed off their path. Even Lakradiyon’s sword, endowed with aura blade, could not slice through the walls, which repaired faster than she could cut.

Clearly, Pendalord’s minions had anticipated this, launching their attack in perfect sync with the changing walls. And it did not end there. As soon as the walls divided them, mechanical weaponry surged forward, targeting only Kraush and Lakradiyon. In a moment of distraction, Pendalord’s minions had fled the scene, expertly using the Bastion’s features to their advantage.

Lakradiyon swallowed hard.

Pendal had always resorted to underhanded tactics. He was closer to a villain than a saint. Yet, Lakradiyon had believed that his passion for conquering Demonic Bastion was genuine. But in the end, even within the Bastion, he had ordered his underlings to commit cowardly acts.

Lakradiyon shuddered with disgust.

She had once thought of him as an ally, but it seemed he too had changed.

“…Mr. Kraush, I apologize.”

Kraush, on the other hand, remained unfazed.

“What’s there to be surprised about? The biting dog has merely bitten.”

If anything, Kraush was thankful for the trap. Pendal hadn’t changed a bit, then or now.

“So, without a scout, how do we break through the seventh floor?”

“…By following the wall, somehow, we’ll manage to get there.”

It would take much longer, of course. Lakradiyon didn’t suggest searching for Penichelri and Derrick. Without deliberately timing it like Pendalord, understanding the cycle at which the mechanical gears and walls changed was near impossible. Therefore, the likelihood of reuniting with the other two, even if they actively searched, was slim.

“So you’re saying there’s no way for you.”

“…Yes.”

Lakradiyon felt ashamed despite being a senior in the Bastion, unable to offer assistance. After all, she was specialized in combat, not scouting.

“Then that’s fine. Just do me a favor.”

Kraush spoke as if it were of no concern.

“What do you request?”

“Carry me.”

Lakradiyon blinked.

Carry him, out of the blue?

Though puzzled, she saw the seriousness in Kraush’s eyes. He had anticipated Pendalord’s traps right from the beginning, especially on the seventh floor. And as expected, he had prepared a plan, bringing along a scout to make Pendalord’s minions believe they would be victorious by merely separating him from the group.

“Do you doubt me?”

“No.”

Without protest, she stooped down and presented her back to him. Between her light armor and shirt, strands of her hair were visible. Kraush climbed onto her back without hesitation. Having hit a growth spurt, Kraush had grown quite tall, but not enough to match Lakradiyon, who lifted him effortlessly.

“What do I do now?”

“I need to concentrate for a bit. Just follow my directions. It’ll be hard for me to move on my own while I’m focused.”

“Understood.”

Lakradiyon earnestly followed Kraush’s instructions. Satisfied, Kraush closed his eyes, awakening his sixth sense. Unlike before, its range had expanded significantly, and today, he intended to push it to its limits. This required intense concentration, and of course, a mobile fortress to carry out his commands.

The sixth sense was akin to a web of aura. Spreading thin and wide, even through the densest walls, it pressed on, reaching into the finest crevices. With his senses stretched to the extreme, Kraush began to perceive the vast maze in his mind like a blueprint. His heightened focus forcefully drew all information into his head, although the strain caused a throbbing pain. Still, it was tolerable.

“Straight ahead, for 500 meters, then turn right.”

Kraush’s directions were precise. Lakradiyon sprinted without hesitation, following each command.

“Next, at the fork, take the left.”

With every step Lakradiyon took, Kraush’s guidance came sharp and clear. Soon, she noticed the surroundings gradually changing. As they moved correctly inward, the walls of the mechanical maze began to shift to a consistent hue, transitioning from their original black to a shade of red. The slight reddening indicated they were on the right path.

Lakradiyon marveled.

She had not expected Kraush to navigate so adeptly. With such skill, he was a better scout than even Derrick.

‘Just how many strange talents does he possess?’

Was it the mark of Balheim, or the relentless determination that drove him to even steal basics from her?

In any case, Kraush was no ordinary person.

“It seems they’re coming.”

Hearing Kraush’s voice, she slightly furrowed her brows.

“If they’re coming, does that mean…”

“Yes, Pendalord’s minions.”

Perhaps unnerved by the pace at which Kraush and Lakradiyon were finding their way, Pendalord’s minions, targeting Kraush, hurriedly converged towards them. If the pair reached the eighth floor ahead of schedule, it would spell the end for Pendalord’s plan. They had chosen a direct confrontation, knowing this.

“Are they foolish or just that devoted to their captains?”

Kraush opened his eyes, detaching himself from her back. In his hand was his sword, already drawn.

“They will pay a hefty price.”

Without hesitation, Kraush launched his sword. The thrown blade gleamed with black light and embedded itself in the chest of a figure about to emerge around the corner.

“Argh?!”

As the assailant was caught off guard, Kraush leaped from Lakradiyon’s back, landing firmly. The sword he’d thrown returned to his hand.

“Jeg is down!”

While someone rushed to pour a potion on the wounded minion, Kraush was already on the move. Seeing him, three shield-bearing members of Pendalord’s minions sprang forward.

Kraush exhaled sharply.

“Are they treating us like mechanical automatons?”

Shields were effective against automatons when navigating the Bastion. To position them against human adversaries was absurd. Though momentarily astonished, he acknowledged the formidable barrier the shields presented. Mages could be heard behind them, sprinkling reagents for a magic circle and beginning their incantations.

‘They really want to fight as if they’re facing automatons.’

A faint smoke emerged from Kraush’s lips, a sign of the power of world erosion beginning to burn within Ignis, activating traces of Annihilation Erosion.

His body propelled forward in a straight line, his sword already blazing with black flames, his muscles swelling with raw power.

‘If that’s what they want, it’ll be their undoing.’

And then, Kraush collided with the shields. The aura surrounding the supposedly expert shields crumpled pathetically upon contact, giving way before him.

“Ack!?”

“Aaargh?!”

The swordsmen tried to fend off Kraush’s advance, but he was quicker. Anticipating their strikes, he dodged, weaving through them with the agility of a skilled acrobat. Those who watched had their eyes bulging in disbelief at the almost artistic movements.

“Monster…”

As someone muttered under their breath, Kraush had already reached the mages. Before their magic circles could shine, he slammed his sword into them.

With a whoosh, flames erupted from the sword, consuming the reagents and nullifying the magic circles. The mages tried to retreat, but Kraush was quicker, kicking one and slamming another to the ground.

In mere moments, both of the mages from the minions’ ranks were subdued. Kraush stood up, leaving behind the mage trembling on the floor, and his eyes, reddened by Annihilation Erosion, slowly lit up the dark labyrinth.

The remaining members of Pendalord’s minions froze in place. They had been overpowered by a single team—by a boy who was just 14 years old.

“Do you wish to continue fighting?”

At Kraush’s question, their bodies flinched.

They had completely lost their will to fight.

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