I Only Tame Dragons

"Lydia, Silphie—move!" Von barked.

Lydia didn't need to be told twice. She darted forward, moving like a blur, her daggers flashing as she slashed at the Titan's knee joint. Her enchanted blades dug into the molten rock, sending cracks along its leg structure, but the Titan barely reacted.

Silphie raised her staff. "I'll weaken it!"

She extended her hands, and a burst of divine energy surrounded the Titan. It wasn't enough to deal major damage, but it created a field of resistance that slowed the Titan's movements.

Von took the opportunity and charged in, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc. The blade—enchanted with impact magic—collided with the Titan's knee, forcing it to stagger slightly.

Lydia saw her opening.

She leaped onto Von's shoulder, using him as a springboard before flipping through the air. With a sharp twist, she landed on the Titan's massive forearm and rushed up its arm, daggers ready.

The Titan snarled, realizing what she was doing. It raised its free hand, ready to swat her away.

But—

A massive spike of ice shot out from the ground, stabbing into the Titan's side.

The Titan roared in pain as Frigid finally rejoined the battle.

"I'm back," Frigid said coolly, his breath visible from the cold energy radiating off him. His frost shield surged, spreading ice across the Titan's molten skin, causing parts of its body to harden and crack.

Lydia didn't waste the opportunity.

She reached the Titan's shoulder, spun her daggers in reverse grip, and drove them straight into the Titan's molten neck.

SHKK!

Flames burst from the wounds, but the Titan's movements faltered.

Von and Frigid seized the moment.

Von's guns glowed as he unleashed a devastating strike, firing the weapon into the Titan's already-weakened knee joint. The force shattered the hardened lava, causing the Titan's leg to buckle.

Frigid extended his icy palms, sending a wave of frost surging toward the Titan's head, freezing one of its glowing cores in place.

The Titan stumbled, its body shaking violently.

They had done it.

They had forced it down.

Silphie, panting from the constant spellcasting, wiped sweat from her forehead. "We . . . we actually slowed it down."

Lydia jumped down from the Titan's shoulder, flipping gracefully before landing next to Von. "Yeah, but it's still moving," she pointed out. "How long do we have to keep this up?"

Von smirked, resting his sword on his shoulder. "Until Horizon finished their leader. Then it would be all over."

And right on cue—

A loud metallic clang echoed across the battlefield.

They all turned toward the center of the coliseum, where Horizon and Grimm's battle was reaching its climax.

The battlefield trembled as Grimm lunged forward, his blade burning with dark energy. Horizon, his breath ragged and his mana barely replenished, could do nothing but defend against the relentless onslaught.

Each strike sent shockwaves through the air, the sheer force of Grimm's attacks forcing Horizon back step by step. His arms ached, his movements sluggish, but his expression remained unreadable—calm, focused, waiting.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Blow after blow, Horizon's sword met Grimm's, sparks flying with each clash. But the difference in power was clear. Horizon was struggling, barely keeping up. His counters were getting weaker, his stance faltering.

Grimm grinned. "You're finished."

He twisted his wrist, bringing his massive obsidian blade down with brutal force. Horizon barely managed to parry, but the impact was too much. His feet dragged across the ground, leaving deep trenches in the stone.

The crowd watched, holding their breath. The elven elders eyes widened with anticipation, their expression one of glee.

Horizon was losing.

Grimm pressed his advantage, raining down heavy, calculated strikes. His movements were precise, each attack pushing Horizon further into a defensive stance, forcing him against the very edge of the battlefield.

And then—

Crack.

It was faint. Almost imperceptible beneath the roar of the battle.

A small fracture—running along the length of Grimm's weapon.

Grimm didn't notice it at first.

But Horizon did.

And he smiled.

Grimm raised his sword high for the final blow, aiming straight for Horizon's chest.

"I win." He swung down with all his might—

And that's when it happened.

A sharp, splintering sound echoed across the battlefield.

SNAP!

Grimm's blade cracked apart, pieces of dark metal shattering mid-swing. His once-mighty weapon—his pride—was reduced to fragments before it could land the finishing strike.

His eyes widened. "What . . . ?"

A beat of silence.

Then it dawned on him.

Horizon hadn't been fighting to defeat him directly.

He had been aiming at his weapon all along!

Each parry, each desperate block—it was never about surviving. It was about weakening the blade, exploiting its structural flaws, and letting Grimm's own strength destroy it.

Grimm stumbled back, his mind reeling.

Horizon, despite his exhaustion, straightened up, rolling his shoulders. He lifted his own sword, inspecting the edge with mild interest.

"I was wondering when it would break," he murmured.

Grimm's hands clenched into fists. His breathing turned erratic.

"You—"

"—Fought exactly how I expected."

Horizon stepped forward, and for the first time since the battle started, Grimm was the one retreating.

"You relied too much on your weapon," Horizon continued, his voice carrying over the silent coliseum. "It was strong—I'll give you that. But you were so focused on overpowering me that you didn't notice how every clash chipped away at it."

Grimm gritted his teeth, rage boiling in his veins.

"This isn't over," he growled. Dark mana surged around him, his fury manifesting into raw power.

But Horizon remained unfazed.

"No," he agreed. He tightened his grip on his sword, raising it one last time. "But you are."

And then—he struck.

A single, decisive blow.

Grimm tried to defend, but his broken weapon was useless. Horizon's blade cut through the remnants of his guard, striking cleanly across his chest.

A shockwave erupted from the impact, sending Grimm crashing to the ground.

Dust and embers filled the air.

Silence.

Then—the bell rang.

Horizon stood tall, his sword lowered at his side.

And Grimm . . .

Didn't get up.