I Only Tame Dragons

Ford and Damon's skills were powerful, each aimed at single targets, tearing through individual undead.

But as their own fallen comrades began to rise, joining the undead horde against them, they quickly found themselves outnumbered.

In desperation, they unleashed a furious barrage of skills, slashing and casting without pause, hoping to reduce the relentless wave that closed in around them.

Yet, despite their high stat, they were caught in a vicious cycle. The undead were slower and weaker than Ford and Damon but seemingly endless.

The two fighters' high stats protected them from being overwhelmed outright, but their opponents had one insurmountable advantage: they simply wouldn't stay down.

Without area-wide magic to clear the field with one strike, Ford and Damon's single-target skills could only do so much.

Ford clenched his jaw, unleashing a devastating combo that obliterated an undead, scattering bones across the ground.

Damon followed with a brutal charge, his sword slicing through three foes in one swing.

Yet, as the bodies fell, he watched in frustration as they rese up again, clawing up from the soil to join the attack.

Damon's chest heaved with exertion, his mana reserves now nearly depleted, and he could feel the weight of the fight bearing down on him.

They fought with everything they had, bringing the number of undead down to just five through sheer determination and skill.

But by this time, both players were visibly worn down. Ford's sword, once gleaming, was chipped and cracking, the high-tier Silver edge dulled by the relentless hacking.

Damon's last spell had left a faint glow on the field, but it was weak and flickering—his mana reserves were fully spent.

Worse, both men could feel the durability of their gear failing, each strike sending another splintering shock through the metal.

Now, they faced a grim decision: if they continued fighting, they risked breaking their prized Silver-tier weapons.

Both had already switched to backup blades, which had long since given out. The prospect of losing their irreplaceable main weapons now loomed over them, adding a fresh problem to the relentless battle they were barely holding together.

Ford and Damon were cornered, each strike barely making a dent in the endless wave of undead. Their skills, while potent, were designed for single-targets, and their usual prowess in battle was near useless here.

With every slain foe, it seemed like two more rose in its place, turning the battlefield into a twisted mockery of a graveyard. Their fallen comrades—former friends and warriors—had joined the undead horde, faces vacant and unfeeling, driven only by the dark magic binding them.

"Ford, we're in trouble here!" Damon grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. His eyes darted around, calculating escape options, but there was nowhere to go.

Ford ground his teeth, swinging his sword in a broad arc to clear a temporary path, "Just keep fighting! If we stop, we're done for."

But as the minutes dragged on, exhaustion set in, and their reserves began to run dry. Their attacks grew slower, less precise, as their mana reserves neared depletion.

Ford's sword, once a proud Silver-tier blade, was now chipped and dull. Damon's weapon was in no better condition, each strike weakening its edge. Both men knew they had to retreat, but with no clear escape route, their options were quickly dwindling.

Finally, after a particularly fierce exchange, the horde dwindled to just a handful. Ford and Damon panted heavily, relief trickling in—until they noticed their mana was fully exhausted, and their weapons dangerously close to breaking.

Ford glanced down at his sword, frowning at the deep cracks spreading across the blade. They had already used up their spare weapons; any further fighting would come at the risk of total equipment failure.

Just as Ford was considering finding a place to hide out the rest of the competition, a sudden change took place. The remaining undead froze in their tracks, and then, one by one, they crumbled into dust, leaving only David, standing lifeless but somehow intact.

"W-What . . . what's happening?" Ford asked, bewildered. "Are we . . . safe?"

"Don't drop your guard yet," Damon warned. He glared at David's unmoving form. "The fact that he's still standing means the magic's still active. This could be some kind of trap."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"It's not exactly a trap," came a voice, smooth and unbothered, cutting through the tension like a blade.

Both men spun around, weapons raised. "Who's there? Show yourself!" Ford barked.

From the shadows, Horizon casually descended from a tree branch and landed lightly on the ground. He wore an air of calculated indifference, a smirk playing on his lips. Beside him, Nyx hovered close by, eyeing the two players with a disturbing, almost playful glint.

Ford and Damon immediately fell back into defensive stances, weapons poised. "Who are you?" Ford demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed frustration.

Ford's gaze landed on Horizon's guild badge, and he chuckled—a low, mocking sound.

"Ah, a Bronze badge," Ford sneered, letting out a shaky laugh despite the tense situation. Just some independent player or a small-time guild rat. Nothing to worry about.

Horizon's smirk only grew. "I'm glad to see that you're still smiling," he said, his voice calm and unnerving. "You're going to need it where you're headed."

Ford's eyes narrowed, his irritation mounting. "Listen here, you punk. I don't have time to play with you. I'll let you walk away if you get the fuck out of here, got it?"

In truth, Ford had already made up his mind. His equipment was on the verge of breaking, and with his mana gone, he didn't stand a chance against a fresh opponent—even one who only bore a Bronze badge. He had planned to simply lay low until the competition's end rather than waste his resources on a meaningless fight.

Damon, however, remained alert. He had noticed something that sent a shiver down his spine: David, the last undead, wasn't moving to attack this stranger. Instead, he stood eerily still, as though awaiting orders.

"Ford, wait." Damon whispered urgently, "Look at David. He's not attacking him. I think this guy is controlling him."

Ford's gaze snapped back to Horizon, his expression darkening. "Who the hell are you?" he growled, raising his weapon again despite its fragile state.

"Are you their leader?" Damon demanded, tensing as he prepared to activate one of his last remaining life-saving items.

Horizon merely shrugged, his gaze glinting with mild amusement. "Let's just say I don't waste explanations on dead men walking," he replied, waving his hand dismissively.

Ford's patience was waning. "You think you're clever, don't you?" he sneered. "You're the one who's about to die. We might be low on resources, but I'll tear you apart with my bare hands if I have to."

Beside Horizon, Nyx chuckled. "I've heard that line more times than I can count," she said with a wicked grin. "Funny how those creatures ended up in my stomach."

Ford scoffed. "Shut it, lizard! I'm not afraid of some pet."

Horizon raised an eyebrow, glancing at Nyx. "A lizard, huh? Is that what everyone sees?"

Nyx shrugged, unbothered. "Only to those unworthy of seeing my true form. I reveal my nature only to a chosen few."

Ford's confidence faltered momentarily, but he quickly steeled himself, taking a threatening step forward. "I'm not going to ask again. Get out of my way, or I'll make you regret it!"

Horizon simply smiled, raising his hand in a mocking gesture. "You're out of mana, your items are spent, and your weapons are on the verge of breaking. So tell me, exactly how do you plan on killing me?"

Nyx snickered beside him, adding, "Maybe he's planning to bore us to death with his empty threats."

Ford's face flushed red with anger, but before he could retort, Damon made his move. While Horizon's attention was focused on Ford, Damon activated [Quick Step] and bolted toward the forest edge, hoping to escape and regroup. His high Agility sent him shooting past the trees, confidence rising with each step.

"Hoi, Damon!" Ford shouted, stunned as his partner abandoned him.

Damon didn't look back. All that mattered now was getting away from these monsters and regrouping. If this Horizon guy was truly controlling David and the rest of the undead before, there was no point in sticking around. He'd survive to fight another day, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to come back.

But his hope was short-lived.

Just as he thought he'd gained a decent lead, a massive, clawed hand slammed him down, pinning him to the ground. Damon struggled, gasping as he looked up and saw David's cold, empty eyes staring down at him.

"Y-You . . . !" Damon hissed, gritting his teeth in pain.

He hadn't considered David's raw speed. As a Beastfolk with similar stats, David's agility was naturally superior, and his undead form hadn't dulled it in the slightest. Damon could only curse his own oversight, realizing too late that he'd underestimated Horizon's control over the undead.

Horizon approached leisurely, folding his arms as he looked down at Damon with a poker face. "Running away already? I thought you'd be a bit more resilient."