I Only Tame Dragons

Ironfist couldn't believe it. He had been bested—by a nobody, no less—and what made it worse, the guy hadn't even broken a sweat. Horizon hadn't drawn his sword, hadn't activated a single skill. He simply dodged, weaving through Ironfist's relentless, wild attacks without breaking a sweat.

And yet, somehow, Ironfist had lost.

How could that be?

A fighter like him, a Tier-4 Warrior Monk with monstrous stats, should've torn through someone like Horizon.

But no matter how hard he swung, no matter how powerful his strikes were, he couldn't land a single hit. Horizon didn't even bother to counterattack—he didn't need to. Every dodge, every sidestep, made Ironfist look like a lumbering fool.

To be outmatched by someone who didn't even have to try? It was infuriating.

Ironfist's mind raced, trying to make sense of it. His fists were like boulders, his blows capable of smashing through walls—yet they'd been nothing to Horizon, who avoided them with ease, as if Ironfist were moving in slow motion.

No matter how much strength he poured into his attacks, Horizon stayed just out of reach.

It wasn't just a defeat. It was humiliation.

Ironfist growled. "Y-you . . . who the fuck are you–!"

With a swift, decisive motion, Horizon struck Ironfist down. His blade cut through the warrior monk with such precision that Ironfist didn't even realize he was dead until his vision began to blur and his body collapsed to the ground.

As Ironfist's life faded, Horizon knelt beside him, his hands moving quickly to loot the body. He stripped Ironfist of his equipment, taking everything of value—his gauntlets, his armor, his weapons—before standing up, leaving the corpse behind without a second glance.

Satisfied with his spoils, Horizon gave the clearing one last glance, his expression stoic.

With a final glance at Ironfist's lifeless body, Horizon turned and walked away, vanishing into the forest, leaving nothing behind but the eerie stillness of the battlefield.

Now that he had acquired new materials, it was time to craft their equipment. Horizon made his way back through the dense forest when a glimmer of movement caught his eye.

It was a woman, but not just any woman—she radiated an almost divine presence. Her skin glowed, as though lit from within, shimmering in the daylight.

She wore armor that gleamed with a celestial sheen, and though it looked like the garb of a paladin, Horizon could tell with a single glance that it was no ordinary set of gear. This was Golden Armor, at least mid-tier, its enchantments making her appear more like an angelic warrior than a mere mortal.

In her hands, she wielded a massive greatsword, a weapon that, by all appearances, should have been too heavy for anyone to swing with ease. Its golden blade gleamed under the sun, exuding a holy aura, a testament to its Gold-tier craftsmanship.

Yet, she moved with such fluidity that the sword appeared as light as a rapier in her grasp.

Surrounding her were a dozen men, their armor and insignias revealing that they belonged to three different guilds. Their expressions were menacing, and the way they encircled her told Horizon everything he needed to know.

"Are they planning to eliminate her?" Horizon mused, barely raising an eyebrow. He shrugged to himself. None of his concern.

Skirmishes like these were common before the competition. Guilds often tried to eliminate rivals, either the weakest links or the strongest threats, before the games even began.

It was just another day in the world of Eternia.

"Seraphina," one of the men sneered, stepping forward with arrogance. "You've got guts, coming out here alone. Looks like the famous Wingless Valkyrie has gotten overconfident."

Seraphina? Wingless Valkyrie? Horizon's interest piqued as he recognized the name.

Wingless Valkyrie wasn't just any guild—it was one of the 1st rate guilds, a force to be reckoned with. And Seraphina? She was the leader appointed to lead her group in this competition.

Seraphina's expression remained calm, unflinching in the face of danger. Her voice was steady, almost serene, as she addressed the men who surrounded her. "Are you sure you want to challenge me? Aren't you worried that your insignificant guilds will be crushed by Wingless Valkyrie when they hear what you've done?"

The men burst into laughter, their confidence bolstered by their numbers. "They won't even know what happened," one of them mocked. "Once you're dead, your guild will be none the wiser. Kill her!"

In a flash, they charged, weapons drawn, each of them eager to be the one to take down Seraphina, to claim the glory of defeating a legend.

But Seraphina remained still, watching them with cold, calculating eyes. As the first man reached her, swinging his sword down with all his might, she barely shifted.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

With a swift, graceful motion, she sidestepped the attack and brought her greatsword crashing down in a single fluid arc. The man didn't even have time to scream before his body was flung aside, his armor shattered, his health bar obliterated in one strike.

The rest hesitated, but only for a moment. They charged again, this time with more fury, but Seraphina was untouchable. Her sword moved like lightning, cutting through their ranks with terrifying speed. Every swing of her weapon sent shockwaves through the air, and every strike was lethal.

Horizon observed from a distance, arms crossed, impressed at what he saw. "That woman must have her stats somewhere in the 400 to 500 plus range," he muttered to himself. "And she's one of the rare few with a natural mastery over combat. Not bad at all."

The dozen of men must have their stats in the 300-400 range, but still, all of them combined where no match against a single Seraphina.

Perched atop Horizon's head, Nyx lazily opened one eye, casting a quick, disinterested glance at Seraphina before letting out a long yawn. "Her skills are . . . meh," Nyx mumbled, curling back into her spot. "I've seen better." With that, she drifted off again, unimpressed.

One by one, the attackers fell, their bodies crumpling to the ground as Seraphina made quick work of them. Her face remained serene, as if the battle was no more taxing than a stroll through the park.

She was a storm, silent but deadly, and none of them had the skill or strength to even come close to matching her.

The last man, trembling with fear, tried to flee, but Seraphina didn't even give him the chance. With a flick of her wrist, she sent her sword flying through the air, impaling him cleanly through the back. He collapsed in the dirt, lifeless.

The battlefield grew quiet, the only sound the soft breeze rustling the trees. Seraphina walked over to retrieve her sword, pulling it from the body of the fallen man with ease. She glanced briefly at the carnage around her before turning to leave, her face still as composed as ever.

From his vantage point, Horizon chuckled softly. "Wingless Valkyrie, huh? Interesting. Looks like this competition might be harder than I thought."