I Only Tame Dragons

The week leading up to the final showdown passed in a blur, yet every moment felt weighted with preparation and tension.

Horizon and his guildmates threw themselves into upgrading their equipment, tirelessly crafting new items from the rare materials earned in previous battles. Armor was strengthened, weapons honed, and enchantments refined. Every detail mattered.

The group worked seamlessly, their movements and decisions guided by the unspoken trust they had forged in the crucible of countless trials. Yet, as the days dwindled, Horizon felt a growing unease, an itch beneath his skin that no preparation could scratch.

When the final night arrived, the guild’s preparations appeared flawless. Their home was fortified with layered wards and traps, a testament to their caution. But unseen forces conspired against them.

In the dead of night, the silence was fractured by faint, unnatural whispers. Shrouded figures, cloaked in magic that bent light and sound, slipped into the manor. These assassins were no ordinary foes—they were elite operatives hired by the Elven Council, wielding forbidden artifacts designed to bypass conventional defenses.

The assassins moved with eerie precision, spreading through the manor like a silent plague. One of them activated a shimmering orb, releasing an invisible gas that blanketed the guild in a deep, unnatural sleep. The device was a masterwork of magic and alchemy, crafted to incapacitate even the most vigilant.

Their first targets were Silphie and Lydia. The two lay motionless in their rooms, breathing slowly under the effects of the gas. One assassin raised a gleaming dagger, its edge pulsing with a venomous green light. The blade plunged downward—

But the sound of the strike was wrong. The satisfying crunch of bone and flesh was absent, replaced by a hollow distortion, as if the air itself had betrayed the act. The assassin’s hand wavered, the room around them flickering like a mirage.

"What—" the assassin began, but their voice faltered as the world twisted.

Unbeknownst to the intruders, Horizon had foreseen the possibility of such an attack. His unease had not been unfounded. While the guild focused on physical preparations, he had taken additional steps to secure their lives against less tangible threats.

The key to his plan lay in the Wysteria Dragon. An elusive creature of myth, its powers were unique and nearly insurmountable. The Wysteria Dragon exuded an invisible mist, laced with hallucinogenic and disorienting properties. Anyone who inhaled even a trace would find themselves trapped in a waking dream, unable to distinguish illusion from reality.

The dragon’s magic had cloaked the entire manor in an undetectable haze. From the moment the assassins entered the perimeter, they had been ensnared.

As the assassins moved through the manor, their confidence began to waver. Shadows lengthened unnaturally, whispers grew louder, and rooms shifted before their eyes. One assassin swore they saw Silphie rise from her bed, her eyes glowing like twin suns. Another claimed Lydia had split into three identical forms, each more menacing than the last.

"Stay focused!" their leader hissed, though even their voice betrayed unease. "It’s just the wards. Break through them!"

But the assassins couldn’t break through something they didn’t understand. Their senses betrayed them at every turn. When they thought they were advancing toward Von’s quarters, they found themselves back at the entrance. When they tried to regroup, they saw their allies’ faces twist into grotesque masks.

Panic set in. The assassins began striking out at phantoms, their blades clashing against empty air. One slashed at what they thought was Horizon, only to realize too late that their blade had turned on a comrade.

Watching the chaos unfold through the dragon’s shared perception, Horizon smirked. His guildmates, fully aware of the Wysteria Dragon’s magic, were wide awake and waiting in the shadows.

Silphie and Lydia struck first, emerging like specters behind the disoriented assassins. Lydia’s twin daggers flashed, carving through the leader’s enchanted armor. Silphie followed with a burst of wind magic, sending two more assassins crashing into a wall.

Von joined moments later, his bullets cleaving through the illusions and striking true. The remaining assassins, now fully engulfed in panic, tried to flee, but Horizon stepped into their path.

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"You picked the wrong house," he said, his voice calm but edged with menace.

One assassin lunged at him, their blade glowing with cursed fire. Horizon didn’t flinch. A flick of his wrist sent his own weapon—a crystalline blade laced with frost magic—arcing forward. The cursed fire extinguished in an instant as the assassin crumpled to the ground.

The Wysteria Dragon roared, its breath filling the room with shimmering petals that glowed faintly in the moonlight. The assassins froze, their bodies betraying them as the dragon’s magic seeped deeper into their minds.

=== ===

Hours later, in a secluded chamber far from the battlefield, the Elven Elders convened to receive news of the attack. A shadowy figure knelt before them, their face hidden beneath a hood.

"The operation was a success," the figure reported. "Horizon and his guild are no more."

The Elders exchanged satisfied glances. "Excellent. Without them, the final game will proceed as planned. The Kingdom of Stars may be defeated, but we have extract vengeance for them."

But as the hooded figure left, the Elders’ triumph was short-lived. A crystal orb on the central table began to glow, its surface rippling with images from the manor.

The orb revealed Horizon standing amidst the wreckage of the battle, his guildmates behind him. The assassins lay unconscious at their feet, bound by chains of light.

One Elder’s face paled. "Impossible . . ."

"They knew," another whispered, their voice trembling.

"They were prepared."

"But how?"

=== ===

Back at the manor, Horizon crouched beside one of the captured assassins, his expression cold.

"Deliver this message to your masters," he said, leaning in close. "Send as many assassins as much as you want. We will kill them all."

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"You bunch of cheaters! That’s what you get for cheating on us!" Lydia said sticking out her tongue.

Silphie nodded with a sleepy face.

Von sighed. "I almost feel embarrassed that the elder would stoop this low. Where’s your elven pride?"

Frigid harrumph, smoke of ice coming out from his nose.

The assassin didn’t respond, his eyes wide with fear as he scurried away. He didn’t know what had happened, but their mission had failed and he was the only one left alive.

They didn’t know about the Wysteria Dragon as it had the ability to conceal itself, and it would be Horizon’s ace in the upcoming battle.

Satisfied, Horizon rose and turned to his guildmates. "Let’s finish preparing. We’ve got a game to win."

The Wysteria Dragon loomed behind him, its petals drifting lazily through the air. Though the night had been fraught with danger, Horizon and his guild stood alive and ready for tomorrow.