I Only Tame Dragons

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar, the crowd on its feet as the two guilds squared off. The tension was thick, the air charged with anticipation. Each team had proven themselves in previous battles, but this—this was the defining moment on who would advance to the final rounds.

Seraphina met Horizon's gaze, her celestial blade humming with power. She inclined her head slightly. "For the times you've helped us, I'm grateful. But today, I won't hold back."

Horizon smirked, resting a hand on his sword's hilt. "I'd be disappointed if you did. I'll be coming at you with everything I've got, so be ready."

The stadium trembled beneath the deafening roar of thousands of voices. Cheers erupted like waves, surging through the air as banners unfurled and enchanted lights flickered across the stands.

"Wingless Valkyries! Wingless Valkyries!"

The chant echoed relentlessly, shaking the very foundation of the arena. It wasn't just support—it was devotion. This was more than just a battle; it was a spectacle, a clash between rising legends and undeniable champions.

Wingless Valkyrie was no ordinary guild. They were a first-rate powerhouse, an elite force that had earned their place at the top. Their victories weren't just counted in battles won but in the sheer influence they held over the world. They had built a legacy, and with that came a massive fan base.

At the heart of it all was Seraphina.

A name known across the world. A warrior admired for both her breathtaking beauty and her unmatched combat prowess. Her fan clubs alone dominated nearly half the stadium, their members waving banners, chanting her name, and showering the field with magical confetti. She was a goddess on the battlefield, a beacon of strength and elegance that captivated all who watched.

But she wasn't alone.

Aria had her own devoted followers—admirers drawn in by her grace, charisma, and mesmerizing combat style. Dawnfire, the fiery Pyromancer, was a fan favorite among those who loved explosive, high-impact battles.

Velvet had an army of supporters who appreciated stealth, speed, and deadly precision. Even Fiora had cultivated a following of those who admired her connection to nature and tactical support skills.

Each of them was more than a fighter—they were icons, warriors that fans had placed their hopes and dreams upon.

On the other side of the battlefield stood Horizon and his team.

Unlike the Wingless Valkyries, they were new faces in a competition filled with veterans. Despite their dominance in the earlier rounds, they had no fanfare, no banners, no deafening cheers. The arena, which had exploded in celebration for Seraphina's team, had little to offer for them beyond a few murmurs of curiosity and mostly scorn.

It wasn't that they weren't strong—they had already displayed immense power in the previous rounds. But strength alone wasn't enough to win over the hearts of the audience. They hadn't yet become legends.

To the crowd, this battle had already been decided before it even began.

The expectations weighed heavily in Wingless Valkyries' favor. The audience firmly believed this was their match to win.

Yet, despite the overwhelming support, Seraphina wasn't completely confident in their victory.

She tightened her grip around her celestial blade, her golden eyes scanning the field. Horizon was dangerous.

They had saw him fight before, clashed blades beside him enough times to understand one absolute truth—this man was no ordinary opponent.

If she focused solely on Horizon, Von would be free to pick off her teammates one by one. If she turned her attention to Von, Horizon would have an opening to engage her directly.

Then there was Frigid, the unmovable tank. He would lock down any attempt at breaking through their formation, ensuring that Lydia could sneak past defenses and strike where it hurt the most.

Meanwhile, Silphie, their priestess, would keep them all standing, ensuring that whatever damage they took wouldn't be enough to bring them down.

The composition of Horizon's team was too well-balanced, too refined.@@novelbin@@

And that was what made them terrifying.

Her instincts told her that this battle wouldn't be easy.

But doubt had no place on the battlefield.

Seraphina took a breath and exhaled, forcing herself to focus.

They were the Wingless Valkyries.

They had fought their way to the top, earned their place among legends. They would not fall here.

She turned to her teammates, her voice steady and firm.

"We're not going to win because of some tricks," she said. "We're going to win because we're stronger. Because we refuse to lose."

Aria nodded. "A little confidence goes a long way."

Dawnfire cracked her knuckles, flames flickering at her fingertips. "I was already planning on winning. But thanks for the pep talk."

Velvet adjusted her daggers, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Guess I'll have to put on a show."

Fiora nodded, quiet but determined. "We fight together."

Seraphina turned back to Horizon.

He stood still, his sword resting at his side, observing her with that calm, unreadable gaze. The lack of cheers didn't bother him. He didn't need them.

Instead, he smiled a little, lifting his blade in acknowledgment.

Seraphina did the same.

This wasn't just another battle.

This was going to be a war.

The announcer's voice boomed over the battlefield.

"Let the battle begin!"

A bell chimed, and in that instant, the battlefield erupted into chaos.

Seraphina and Horizon wasted no time. The two warriors blurred into motion, swords clashing with a ringing sound that echoed through the arena. Golden sparks flew as Seraphina's [Heavenly Strike] met Horizon's powerful parry. Discover hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire

His counterattack came swift—a diagonal slash aimed at her side—but Seraphina twisted, blocking with expert precision. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the ground, dust rising around them as they exchanged rapid blows.

The battle had only just begun, but the intensity was already overwhelming. Neither side hesitated, neither side flinched—every warrior moved with precision, each one refusing to yield even an inch of ground.

Blades clashed in brilliant arcs of light, spells detonated in the air like falling stars, and shadows flickered as assassins danced through the battlefield. It was a storm of steel, fire, and magic—chaotic, yet meticulously controlled.