I Only Tame Dragons

The crowd roared as Gore's aura flared to life once more, his body surrounded by a crimson glow. His wounds closed, and his stamina replenished.

But Frigid didn't flinch. He stood firm, his icy gaze steadfast.

Gore charged, faster and stronger than before, his blade slicing through the air. For a moment, it seemed as though he might finally break through Frigid's defense. But as his blade collided with the ice, the arena was filled with a deafening crack—not from Frigid, but from Gore's weapon.

The enhanced blade shattered into countless pieces, the energy from the artifact unable to compensate for its weakened durability. Gore stumbled, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at his empty hands.

Frigid stepped forward, his icy form towering over Gore. The temperature in the arena dropped even further, frost spreading across the ground in every direction.

"You relied too much on borrowed power," Frigid said, his voice calm and cold. "But no amount of strength can shatter true resilience."

Gore fell to his knees, his breath visible in the freezing air. The crowd was silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone present.

"Yes." Von said fisting his hands.

"Looks like the plan worked," Horizon said, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Frigid's defense was absolute, bolstered by his skills and reinforced by his armor. There were still other angles they could exploit to secure the battle, but this strategy had been their best shot. Horizon and the others had complete faith in Frigid's ability to endure.

The plan had been simple: Frigid would focus entirely on defense, holding out until Gore's weapons couldn't withstand the pressure and inevitably broke. Without his blades, Gore would have no choice but to rely on his bare fists—and against Frigid's impenetrable ice, such attacks would be utterly futile.

Once Gore was weaponless and vulnerable, Frigid could finally counterattack, slowly chipping away at his stamina and forcing him into submission. With nothing but his bare hands, Gore wouldn't stand a chance of breaking through Frigid's defenses, no matter how strong or desperate he became.

Gore refused to admit defeat. Even as his weapons lay shattered and useless on the ground, his confidence surged, bolstered by the stat enhancement granted by the Elven Elders. His muscles pulsed with unnatural strength, his aura radiating power. He clenched his fists, glancing at the towering Frigid, who stood calm and unmoving, like a fortress of ice.

"You think your defense is untouchable, huh?" Gore snarled, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see how long that lasts."

The crowd roared in anticipation as Gore charged forward, his fists glowing faintly with the remnants of his critical-strike abilities. He unleashed a barrage of punches, each one landing with brutal force against Frigid's icy frame. A loud crack echoed through the arena, but it wasn't from Frigid—it was from Gore's own fists meeting the unyielding frost.

Frigid absorbed the blows like a glacier weathering a storm. His passive healing skills worked seamlessly, erasing the minor dents in his health bar as quickly as they appeared.

Meanwhile, the freezing aura surrounding him began to take its toll on Gore. Frost clung to his skin, his breath visible in the icy air, and his movements slowed as if he were fighting against invisible chains.

Still, Gore pressed on, refusing to yield. His boosted stats allowed him to land occasional critical hits that chipped away at Frigid's health bar, but they were fleeting victories. For every sliver of damage Gore managed to inflict, Frigid's abilities replenished it in moments.

The arena fell into a tense silence as the two clashed. Gore ducked low, his movements wild and unpredictable, launching a powerful kick aimed at Frigid's side. The impact was solid, sending a ripple through the ice, but Frigid didn't even flinch. Instead, he countered with a heavy, calculated punch that caught Gore square in the chest.

The crowd winced as Gore staggered backward, clutching his ribs. The freezing air around Frigid seemed to sap his energy with every second, and his once-fluid movements had become sluggish and strained. His breath came in shallow gasps, mist swirling around his mouth as he fought to keep up his pace.

"Still think you can win?" Frigid's voice was calm and low, like the rumble of a distant avalanche.

Gore growled, his eyes blazing with determination. "I don't lose to overgrown ice cubes."

He lunged again, his fists a blur as he unleashed a relentless flurry of strikes. Frigid weathered the assault with eerie composure, his body absorbing the hits like a shield reinforced by layers of frost. Occasionally, he would throw a counterpunch, each one slow but devastatingly heavy.

One such punch caught Gore on the shoulder, spinning him off balance. He stumbled, his boots skidding across the frost-covered ground. The chill in the air was beginning to seep into his very bones, sapping his strength and dulling his reflexes. Even his enhanced stats couldn't completely counteract the debilitating effects of Frigid's aura.

The crowd began to notice the shift. Gore's punches were coming slower, his movements more labored. Meanwhile, Frigid remained as steady as ever, his health bar barely touched thanks to his passive regeneration. The gap between the two fighters was becoming glaringly obvious. Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire

But Gore wasn't finished. With a guttural roar, he threw everything he had into one final assault. His fists glowed faintly with the remnants of his critical-strike abilities as he launched himself at Frigid. He landed a series of powerful punches and kicks, each one aimed at weak points in Frigid's icy armor.

The hits connected, dealing more damage than before. Frigid's health bar dipped noticeably, and cracks began to form in the icy exterior of his armor. The crowd gasped, and for a moment, it seemed like Gore might turn the tide.

But then, Frigid retaliated. He stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over Gore. With a slow, deliberate motion, he swung a heavy fist that collided with Gore's side. The impact sent the assassin sprawling, skidding across the frozen arena floor.