I Only Tame Dragons

Chapter 183 The Unyielding Frost 1

"Lydia!" Von shouted, running up to meet them. His usually light-hearted demeanor had vanished, replaced by a cold, silent intensity.

The assassin smirked, twirling her daggers with casual arrogance. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? You all seemed pretty confident before the fight. What happened?"

Neither Horizon nor Von responded. Their silence spoke louder than any words could, a quiet, simmering rage that threatened to explode at any moment.

"Silphie!" Horizon called, his voice calm but commanding.

The sleepy healer appeared at his side almost instantly, her usual monotone replaced by a rare urgency. She knelt beside Lydia, her hands glowing with soothing light as she began to mend the thief's wounds.

Lydia winced as the magic worked through her battered body, but her lips quivered as she forced out an apology.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice weak. "I couldn't secure a point . . . I let you all down."

She could have won if not for that strange stat boost that the assassin had used. Now she was feeling all guilty

Von crouched beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. "You did more than enough. Rest now. Leave the rest to us."

Horizon stood, his gaze locked onto the assassin, who still wore her arrogant grin. His voice was icy as he spoke, his words cutting through the tense air. "Take care of her, Silphie. Frigid, Von and I will handle the rest."

The assassin laughed, twirling her daggers again. "Oh, I'd love to see you try. But if that was your best, don't expect much of a fight."

Horizon and Von exchanged a glance, their expressions steely and unreadable. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, sensing that something had shifted. The two stepped forward, their auras palpable, radiating an energy that silenced the arena once more.

As they prepared for the next match, the assassin's mocking laughter faded, replaced by an uneasy silence.

"Don't let his reputation shake you," Von added with a small grin.

Horizon placed a hand on Frigid's shoulder. "Stick to the plan," he reminded him, his voice low but firm, carrying the weight of absolute trust.

Frigid didn't speak. He simply nodded, his ice-blue eyes locked on the arena. There was no fear in his expression, only quiet determination.

As he stepped forward, the crowd roared, the arena buzzing with energy. Scarlet Blood Moon's cheers were the loudest, confident their leader was about to crush the opposition.

Frigid moved with deliberate steps, his breath steady, his mind sharp. The air around him seemed to chill as he entered the arena, his name and reputation was becoming a joke in the crowed.

"Isn't he that Ice Giant who only focuses on defense?"

"That's right, but his other stats are ridiculously low."

"What can he possibly do against Gore? It's a lost cause."

"Looks like that guild's about to meet their end. Too bad—I was rooting for them."

"They don't stand a chance against a match-up like this."

"They got lucky in the last round, but this time, there's no way they're pulling through."

"They didn't stand a chance from the start."

From the sidelines, the announcer's voice boomed, calling the start of the match. Gore stepped into the arena, his presence commanding, his eyes cold and calculating. He unsheathed his twin blades, each glinting with the promise of death.

Frigid stood still, his expression unreadable, his hands loose by his sides. The contrast between the two fighters was stark: Gore, a storm of lethal energy, and Frigid, calm and unmoving, like the eye of the storm.