I Only Tame Dragons

Chapter 187 The First Point

The murmurs turned into cheers—this time not for Gore, but for the icy giant who had withstood the Scarlet Blood Moon's strongest fighter.

"Unbelievable," one spectator muttered, shaking his head in amazement. "That guy . . . Frigid. He's not just a wall. He's a fortress."

Back in the arena, Gore's frustration boiled over. He let out a guttural roar, launching himself at Frigid with everything he had. His fists flew in a blur, each strike fueled by desperation and rage. He landed blow after blow, some of them critical hits that managed to chip away at Frigid's health bar. For a moment, it looked like he might break through.

But then Frigid retaliated. He stepped forward, his massive frame radiating cold, and delivered a devastating punch that sent Gore reeling. The impact was thunderous, echoing through the arena as Gore hit the ground.

"Stay down," Frigid said, his voice calm but commanding. "If you don't have anymore cheats, then just surrender."

But Gore refused. He pushed himself back to his feet, his body trembling from the strain. His breath came in ragged gasps, his health bar dangerously low. Yet he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Only one point and they would win. He would rather die than face defeat and humiliation.

The Scarlet Blood Moon members watched in stunned silence, their confidence shattered. This wasn't just a loss—it was a humiliation. Their leader, the man they had thought to be invincible, was being systematically dismantled by an opponent who hadn't even broken a sweat, and opponent that everyone considered a joke because he only increased his DEF. Discover hidden content at My Virtual Library Empire

In the stands, the audience erupted into cheers for Frigid. He had proven himself not just as a defender, but as a strategist—a fighter who could outlast even the strongest of foes.

And as Gore stood there, battered and broken, it became clear to everyone watching: the era of Scarlet Blood Moon's dominance was over. A new champion was rising, and his name was Frigid.

Still, Gore refused to stop. He lunged at Frigid with a roar, his fists aiming for one last desperate strike. But Frigid caught the punch mid-swing, his icy hand closing around Gore's wrist like a vice.

The crowd held its breath as Frigid stared down at his opponent, his grip like stone. "It's over," he said simply.

With a swift motion, Frigid released Gore and delivered a final, crushing blow to his chest. The impact sent Gore sprawling to the ground, his health bar dropping to a sliver. He lay there, gasping for air, his body trembling from exhaustion and the relentless cold.

Gore refused to surrender. The thought of giving up was more unbearable than the freezing pain in his body. He would rather fight to the death—because, at this point, even death seemed like a victory compared to the humiliation of losing to an opponent everyone had dismissed as a joke.

Summoning the last remnants of his strength, Gore prepared to charge at Frigid once more. But before he could move, the icy aura surrounding Frigid intensified. Frost began creeping up Gore's legs, spreading rapidly like a living entity. He struggled, his muscles straining as he tried to break free, but the cold was relentless.

The frost climbed higher, encasing him in a layer of ice that slowed his movements until he could no longer lift his arms. His breath came out in visible puffs, each one growing weaker as the freezing grip tightened. The arena fell silent as the final moments of the fight unfolded.

With one last defiant roar, Gore tried to resist, but it was no use. The ice enveloped him completely, freezing him in place—a chilling monument to his defeat. The fight was over. Frigid had won.

The arena was silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Then, slowly, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Frigid turned and walked back to his team, his icy aura dissipating as he left the arena. Horizon and Von greeted him with proud smiles, their confidence in him fully vindicated.

"You held your ground," Horizon said, clapping a hand on Frigid's shoulder.

"More than that," Von added with a grin. "You crushed him."

Frigid didn't say anything, but a faint smile played on his lips. He had proven his worth, and his victory had given them hope to win the match.

Scarlet Blood Moon's strongest fighter had been defeated, and with him, their hopes of an easy victory had crumbled.

Now, it was Nyx's Guild could win this.

The next match commenced swiftly, and the tension in the air shifted once again. This time, Von stepped into the arena, facing an opponent from the same high-stat bracket as the Scarlet Blood Moon. The crowd roared, anticipation mounting as Von walked to his position with a calm and confident demeanor.

Horizon and the rest of the team watched from the sidelines, their expressions steady and composed. They weren't worried—not in the slightest. They had complete faith in Von's abilities. He wasn't just another fighter; he was their ace, someone who could turn the tide in even the most unfavorable situations.

Before Von entered the battlefield, Horizon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his voice low but firm.

"Don't transform," Horizon said, his tone sharp and deliberate. The words weren't a suggestion; they were a command.

Von turned his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he nodded. "Got it," he replied, his tone casual.

Horizon's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer. It wasn't just a matter of strategy—it was personal. He had seen what Von's transformation could do, both to their enemies and to Von himself.

The dark power he had unleashed in the last match was devastating, but it came with a price. The look in Von's eyes during that moment—wild, untamed, and almost feral—was still in Horizon's mind. If Von kept relying on that dark energy, he risked losing himself entirely, consumed by its overwhelming force.

Horizon's voice softened, though his concern remained clear. "We need you here, Von. Don't let that power take control of you."