I Became A Thief Who Steals Overpowered Skills
Chapter 45 The Fusion Technique of the Sword Demon

At Ebelasque’s training grounds, Kraush grasped his right arm, repeatedly opening and closing his hand.

This exercise was to acclimate himself to the arm of the Sword Demon, still somewhat alien to him.

At that moment, Crimson Garden perched onto Kraush’s shoulder.

“How much do you know about the Sword Demon’s fusion technique?”

“Next to nothing. Just that the fusion technique was extraordinary.”

“Even as a regressed being, you dare to attach the Sword Demon’s arm without knowing anything?”

Kraush shrugged his shoulders.

Did he foresee his own regression?

“How could I know of a man who died before I was even born?”

Crimson Garden pecked at Kraush’s head a few times with her beak before landing in front of him.

“The Sword Demon’s fusion technique is similar yet different to the One Sword technique you’ve been practicing.”

She then began to share knowledge of the Sword Demon’s fusion technique with him, earnestly endeavoring to strengthen Kraush.

“The essence of the Sword Demon’s fusion technique is to blow aura into the blade within the sheath.”

That part was common to typical fusion techniques.

Swiftly drawing the blade charged with internal aura was the essence of the technique.

But ordinarily, drawing an already unsheathed blade was faster.

After all, fusion techniques were devised to quickly unsheathe weapons in response to surprise attacks.

However, the Sword Demon’s technique diverged from the norm.

“And the Sword Demon splintered the aura, gave it elasticity and detonated it inside. As a result, the aura granules created by the blade would violently churn within the sheath.”

“What a peculiar method.”

“It’s peculiarity that breeds secret techniques. Regardless, the aura inside never slows and continually hammers the interior of the sheath. When the force fills and peaks to its utmost limit—”

The blade is drawn.

Riding the force of the explosion, truly at the highest speed.

That’s why the Sword Demon’s fusion technique was distinct from the ordinary, aiming to strike the foe’s throat before one could pull their weapon, based on the explosive power of the aura.

And the destructive force resulting from that explosive power was of another realm.

In reality, the Sword Demon’s fusion technique was a preparation step for a deadly attack, a process of compressing aura to its limit before a catastrophic release.

“Do you understand?”

Kraush looked at his own blade, still in its sheath.

If he had understood immediately after just hearing the explanation, he’d be a genius.

Unfortunately, he was not one.

Hearing a hundred times is not as good as doing once.

It is better to do something once than to hear about it a hundred times.

“Let’s try it.”

Kraush followed Crimson Garden’s instructions and took hold of his weapon.

“Remember you’re wielding the Sword Demon’s arm. It contains the entire muscle memory of the Sword Demon within your right arm.”

The arm of the Sword Demon had now become Kraush’s.

And that arm had practiced its own fusion technique tens, hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of times.

That experience was etched into the arm.

“Follow the will of your arm, and you may succeed.”

Kraush closed his eyes to heed her words.

Then he began to slowly infuse his sheathed blade with aura.

Since he had practiced manipulating aura daily for One Sword, thankfully he didn’t find it too difficult.

Still, it was unstable.

So, Kraush took his time, focusing as much as possible on each particle of aura.

After a few minutes…

Trickles of cold sweat slid down Kraush’s cheek.

It was a sign of his profound concentration.

He had invested this much time just splitting the aura.

Actually using it in real combat was still far off.

However, Kraush quietly maintained his focus.

He felt no urgency.

Having lived his life this way, he could remain dispassionate about himself without disappointment.

Watching him, Crimson Garden refrained from any disparaging remarks.

Martial techniques are not learned overnight.

Therefore, how one spends the day learning the technique is what changes the outcome.

Several more minutes passed.

Kraush finally succeeded in endowing each particle of aura with elasticity.

‘Now to detonate the aura within the blade.’

Subsequently, the internal explosion of aura within Kraush’s blade began.

The energy within the sheath started to move erratically, striking the interior repeatedly until the force accumulated and grew.

Kraush sensed the sheath could almost burst from swelling energy.

Yet, it was not time.

The Sword Demon’s arm grasped the hilt firmly and motionless.

With unwavering concentration, Kraush focused his mind solely on the sheathed blade.

At that instant, the Sword Demon’s right arm twitched ever so slightly.

As if waiting just for this moment.

That precise timing…

Kraush’s blade was explosively unsheathed.

The sound of aura bursting forth and the blade slicing echoed violently throughout the training grounds.

His hair fluttered from the ferocity of the swing, as if caught by the wind.

Kraush, with his entire body soaked in sweat, inhaled sharply.

His right arm ached from wielding the fusion technique.

The arm was accustomed to the technique.

But his aura, meant to be reinforced to endure it, was still lacking.

As a result, Kraush eventually dropped the blade.

His right arm quivered.

A consequence of withstanding the technique’s explosive force but not fully.

Yet, it was a victory.

It was a sign he could move on to the next stage.

Kraush picked up the blade and returned it to the sheath, slowly and carefully.

His arm still trembled from the shock, but Kraush paid it no heed.

If he couldn’t be a genius, then he would have the perseverance.

Just keep repeating until it’s learned.

“Begin.”

Crimson Garden, recognizing this, ordered him to start afresh.

Kraush faithfully followed her command.

A good teacher, the arm of the Sword Demon—everything was there.

All that remained was his own will.

Thus, Kraush closed his eyes again and rebooted his focus.

To endlessly repeat until he mastered the Sword Demon’s fusion technique.

***

Days later, Kraush faced No. 8.

No longer in a maid’s outfit, but wearing a suit tight to her body, No. 8, still sporting black rabbit ears, bowed her head.

Then, with a staff rolled and clasped, she spoke to Kraush.

“You may start anytime.”

“Alright.”

At those words, Kraush placed his right hand over the hilt of his blade.

Instantly—

With a metallic ring, No. 8’s body staggered backward.

Simultaneously, a clamorous noise echoed from the staff in her grasp.

Kraush’s blade was already unsheathed.

No. 8, gazing at the swiftly drawn weapon, responded.

“I saw it.”

“Tch, still not there yet.”

Kraush sheathed his blade, clicking his tongue in frustration.

The Sword Demon’s fusion technique is meant to draw the blade at speeds indiscernible to the naked eye.

However, No. 8 had perceived his quick draw and even his destructive power hadn’t yet measured up to the Sword Demon’s.

Kraush looked down at his own right hand.

After days of rigorous training, his hand was riddled with wounds.

Even with the Sword Demon’s arm, it was impossible to avoid injury.

‘It seems I’m getting the hang of it.’

In the end, it all came down to innate aura capacity, an area he had to grow on his own.

It seemed like a trip back to the Balheim estate to learn the next martial technique was in order.

“Thanks for sparring with me all this time.”

“Don’t mention it. You, Lord Kraush, can afford a bit more confidence. Those of us inside the top ten numbers, like myself, possess master level skills.”

The creations within numbers nine and out—Ebelasque’s bodies.

They were all monsters of master level.

Thus, for No. 8 to track Kraush’s quickdraw with her dynamic vision was perhaps to be expected.

But disappointingly, Kraush could not derive satisfaction from her words.

“The adversaries I’m bound to face are far more formidable than mere masters.”

They were individuals who possessed talents conjured from the emptiness of the sky.

To steal skills from them, he had to grow stronger right here.

“Still, thanks. You’ve been a great help.”

“I’m glad to have been of assistance.”

Kraush smiled at No. 8 as they exited the training area together.

As they did, Ebelasque, who happened to cross the hallway, caught his eye.

Rubbing her tired eyes as if she had just awoken, she appeared weary.

Her T-shirt was stretched, barely covering her chest, and her hair was dry and disheveled.

Kraush regarded her as one might view garbage.

Even as he ensured the bodies under his care were prim and proper, her slovenly state was baffling.

Given Kraush’s aversion to laziness, his thoughts reaffirmed that he’d struggle to work alongside Ebelasque.

“What, why are you looking at me like that?”

Coincidentally, Ebelasque also took notice of Kraush.

Eyeing her own attire, she quickly covered her chest with her hands.

“Pervert! It’s because you’re a man, isn’t it! Ha, I suppose with my glamour and enough to bewitch a teenager’s heart, it’s inevitable you feel that way.”

Kraush offered no response.

It was not worth replying.

Clearly, the lurid novel she had read before sleeping must have been similar in genre.

“I’ll be leaving for Balheim today.”

He had acknowledged the seamless assimilation of his arm at Hardenhartz with the help of Bianca, who burst into tears upon seeing it, but there was no one else around, so it was no issue.

Meliocan had also said nothing more since then and had instructed a priest, as per Kraush’s wishes, to restore the arm and had informed the Balheim family as such.

Now it seemed he could truly return with no further complications.

“Uh, what about me?”

“Do as you please.”

Kraush was indifferent about whether Ebelasque followed him or not.

He had always told Ebelasque she was free to come and go as she pleased anyway.

“Um, what should I do?”

“You are free to remain here. If it were Balheim, even you’d likely be discovered before long.”

Whether harnessing bells like Crimson Garden or not, Ebelasque in her true form was imbued with the energy characteristic of a world devourer.

Countless monsters resided in Balheim.

Not just direct descendants, but also those who had shared generations with Balar, Kraush’s father.

The Five Elders of Balheim.

They would most likely detect Ebelasque’s presence, nine out of ten times.

“Eek, how scary.”

She shuddered with fear in her eyes.

Having once been captured by the Empire, she undoubtedly had no desire to face imprisonment again.

“So stay here. I have a personal request, anyway.”

“Eh, what is it?”

“There’s an individual known as the Poison King.”

One of the Ten Under Heaven and the being that annihilated Hardenhartz.

Although there was plenty of time until then, if the Second Prince were to seek asylum in Hardenhartz again, inevitably, the imperial mandate would send the Poison King to Hardenhartz in pursuit.

“I’d appreciate if you could prevent that guy from causing any mischief in Hardenhartz. Or at least stall for time.”

“To confront one of the Ten Under Heaven? That’s no easy task…”

“I’m not asking for a direct confrontation. Just save Douglakan, the head of Hardenhartz, and that’s sufficient.”

It wasn’t an immediate concern, after all.

“Alright, I can do that much.”

She easily complied with the request.

While Kraush had said returning her heart was a transaction, Ebelasque still felt gratitude toward him, regardless of how she looked.

That’s why she had accepted Kraush’s request so readily.

“If you ever need anything, just ask me.”

He would return the favor, as he had asked for one.

Kraush was certain to follow through and left it at that. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

So, he left Ebelasque’s hideout with those parting words.

Ebelasque watched his back for a long moment, a faint smile creeping out.

“Miss, aren’t you going to follow him?”

Kraush had mentioned that Ebelasque would be discovered if she came to Balheim, but she could remain undetected if she so chose.

However, she had no inclination to hide.

“If it were the old me, perhaps I would have followed.”

Once upon a time, she, a world devourer, had also journeyed across the world with companions.

But that was a distant past, and her resolve from those days had faded.

Kraush was bound to wander through countless worlds.

“Just a moment, I followed him out of curiosity thus far. I feel comparing him to my past comrades does them injustice.”

Thus, she decided not to follow Kraush any further.

“I’m done here. I’m not the outdoors type, after all.”

As one of the peculiar characters among world devourers, she turned and walked away.

Yet, one concern lingered.

Given what she observed of Kraush’s journey, he would certainly become entangled with many other world devourers.

Among them were those truly dangerous.

And they would recognize Kraush, just like she had.

‘When that time comes.’

It might not be so bad to repay him properly, even if just the value of a heart, she mused.

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