I Only Tame Dragons

Horizon and the others turned toward the commotion, their eyes falling on a five-man party consisting of Tier 2-5 classes. From the gleam of their Tier-5 Iron to mid-tier silver equipment, it was clear they belonged to at least a 2nd-rate guild.

"That's Veilborne," murmured a player nearby, his tone filled with both awe and disdain.

"Looks like their Guild Leader and Vice Leader decided to show up this time."

"Yeah, after their poor performance in the last competition, they must be hoping to redeem themselves."

The leader of Veilborne, Nightshade, was a Tier-5 Shadow Dancer with a stat range between 300 and 500. As the head of a 2nd-tier guild, he carried himself with an air of superiority, as though even breathing the same air as the lower-ranked players was beneath him.

Beside him stood Ironfist, the guild's Vice Leader, a Tier-4 Warrior Monk with a stat range of 300-400. Just as arrogant as Nightshade, his imposing figure and aggressive aura demanded submission from anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.

Their party was rounded out by Stormcaller, a Tier-3 Elemental Mage with a stat range of 200-300, Kael, a Tier-2 Beastmaster with a stat range of 100-200, and Val, a Tier-2 Cleric with a lower stat range of 50-100.

Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, and their reputation for playing dirty was well-known.

Ironfist and Stormcaller were already intimidating other players, forcing them to give up their spots in line. The smaller guilds and independent players, unwilling to risk provoking Veilborne, begrudgingly stepped aside.

No one wanted to be the target of a 2nd-tier guild's wrath this early in the competition, especially with Nightshade's infamous reputation for underhanded tactics.

Of course, Veilborne didn't dare challenge the stronger 1st-tier guilds and top-tier players in the line. Instead, they preyed on the weaker, nameless groups, saving their cruelty for those they deemed beneath them.

Unfortunately, one of those nameless groups happened to be Horizon's party.

Ironfist and Stormcaller swaggered up to Horizon and his crew, their expressions smug and menacing. Ironfist sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "What are you looking at? Get to the back. Didn't you hear us?"

Horizon stood his ground, his expression inscrutable as the tension in the air thickened. Silphie, unfazed, focused on the colorful lollipop in her hand, swirling it absentmindedly.

Above him, Nyx stifled a yawn and resumed her nap, oblivious to the brewing confrontation.

Von stepped forward, a confident grin splitting his face. "Hey, fellow competitors! We arrived here first, so how about you do us all a favor and fuck off?"

"Yeah! Fuck off!" Cappy echoed, his voice laced with mischief as he bounced in place.

Lydia wanted to smack Von's head for picking fights with a strong guild, but she nervously hid behind Horizon, instead. Her voice trembling when she spoke, "Uh, guys, why don't we just step back? It's just a line . . ."

It wasn't just a line. Giving in to Veilborne now would label them as easy targets. Once the competition began, other players would see them as weak and likely turn their sights on them first. The moment that they had entered Crownjade Woods, the competition had already began.

Horizon stood firm beside Von. They would not give up their place in line—not now, not ever.

Ironfist, taken aback, scanned the group before him. Horizon and his companions sported mid-tier bronze equipment to Low-tier Iron Equipment, while Horizon himself wore Low-Tier silver equipment. How could such a low-level group dare to stand against them with such arrogance?

Nearby spectators began to murmur among themselves, "Don't they know Veilborne is a 2nd-rate guild?"

"They look like a ragtag bunch of independent players. Most of their gear is still bronze. Even we have three members in Iron equipment and two in silver equipment! Who still wore bronze equipment in this competition?"

"Such a low-level group asking for trouble. They really have no idea."

Stormcaller stepped forward, his voice dripping with menace. "Hey, don't you know who we are?"

Von chuckled, his grin widening. "Nope! And we don't care to find out, so why don't you just scram?"

Ironfist and Stormcaller stood frozen, dumbfounded. An independent group with low-tier equipment had the audacity to talk back to them? If they didn't retaliate now, they would be a laughingstock in front of everyone. A 2nd-rate guild like Veilborne couldn't afford that.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Ironfist, especially, was the Vice Leader of the Guild. Insulting him meant insulting all of Veilborne, and he wouldn't just let it slide.

"You're asking for it!" Ironfist roared, launching a punch straight at Von's face.

The onlookers watched with a mix of pity and excitement, certain this independent group was about to get crushed before the competition even started. That was an advantage to them. Less competitors, the better.

Ironfist was a Tier-4 Warrior Monk, known for his overwhelming strength. One punch from him, with his 400 STR, was enough to kill most low-defense players in a single blow.

But instead of the anticipated spectacle of Von crumpling to the ground, something else happened—something no one expected.

Horizon intercepted the blow, his hand catching Ironfist's punch mid-strike.

"You started this," Horizon said coldly before delivering a swift kick to Ironfist's chest, sending him skidding backward.

Ironfist, a Tier-4 with 200+ DEX and 400 STR, hadn't even seen the kick coming. Worse, he hadn't been able to block it. The impact hurled him several meters back as a red damage number hovered over his head:

–102

The crowd gasped in shock. Even Ironfist looked stunned as he picked himself up. How had Horizon, with such low-tier gear, dealt triple-digit damage? Ironfist's CON stat alone exceeded 200+, and he was wearing a full Tier-5 Silver Set Equipment—his pride and joy. How high was Horizon's strength to pierce through all of that?

The spectators murmured among themselves, equally baffled. Horizon, too, was surprised—just not for the same reason.

"Only three digits?" he thought to himself, frowning. He was used to dishing out thousands of damage, so seeing such a low number made him pause. It only meant one thing: Ironfist was strong, and his equipment wasn't just for show.

Stay tuned to empire

With the competition was just days away, grinding to boost their stats was pointless. At their current level, increasing attributes was an uphill battle—what difference would a meager one to five additional ATP make, anyway?

Going to a dungeon to get equipment drops from beasts and monsters was out of the question as it would take time. What's more, Silver Equipment drops were rare except maybe if they faced a dungeon boss.

The smartest move now was clear: upgrade their equipment through forging. That was where the real power lay.

Ironfist spat on the ground, his face contorted in rage. "You bastard! You're dead!"

"STOP!"