"What do you an? Huh? No, I don’t want to," Nolan said firmly.
Garrick smirked, sliding his sword back into its sheath. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled off the glove from his left hand and tossed it at Nolan’s feet. The leather hit the ground with a soft thud.
Nolan stared at it, confused. After a mont, he bent down, picked it up, and handed it back to Garrick.
The crowd erupted. Adventurers from the guild spilled outside, cheering and shouting. Passersby stopped to watch, forming a growing circle around them. Excitent buzzed through the air.
"Why are they so hyped?" Nolan muttered. "I already said I’m not fighting."
That was when Ella, the guild receptionist, pushed through the crowd. "You two—stop this right now!" she demanded.
"You can’t stop it now, Ella," Peter interjected, his voice carrying over the noise. "He’s already accepted the duel, and you know the rules."
Nolan turned sharply. "What do you an I accepted? I never agreed to this."
Peter folded his arms, smirking. "The glove was thrown at you, and you picked it up. That’s the sign of acceptance. By our laws, that ans you agreed."
The crowd roared even louder, stomping their feet and chanting. Nolan’s expression darkened. So that’s how things work in this world... all I wanted was to live quietly, to keep a low profile.
Finally, Garrick grinned wickedly. "Perfect. I’m going to use this as my chance to beat the hell out of you." He raised his sword with a gleam in his eye, the blade catching the sunlight as the duel was about to begin.
Peter shouted above the noise of the crowd, "Get him, Garrick! Make him pay for the way he talked to us yesterday!"
The adventurers cheered louder, stomping and clapping, while Peter barked, "Everyone, give them space!"
Celia and Linda refused to move. "No, we’re not leaving Nolan!" they said in unison.
Nolan turned to them gently. "Please... step back. I don’t want you hurt."
Reluctantly, they took a few steps away, though their worried eyes never left him.
From the crowd, a man in a gray cloak stepped forward. Nolan frowned. Where did this guy co from? He wasn’t here before...
The man raised a whistle to his lips. "On my count—one... two... three—begin!"
The sharp whistle pierced the air, and the crowd erupted in screams.
Garrick’s smile widened as he charged, sword raised high. "Finally! Ti to end you!"
Nolan stood still, unard. "But... I don’t even have a sword," he said.
"I don’t care! Get ready to die!" Garrick roared.
The blade glead in the sunlight as it swung downward. But sothing was off—his stance wasn’t a mock strike. He was aiming to kill. The realization rippled through the crowd. Shouts turned into gasps.
"He’s serious!" soone cried.
"He’s going to kill that rookie!" another yelled.
Celia and Linda scread, reaching their hands out. "Nolan, move!"
But Nolan only closed his eyes. And just as the blade was about to connect—
"Ti Disruptor."
The world froze.
The crowd hung in mid-cheer, mouths open, bodies stiff. Celia and Linda’s hands were frozen mid-reach. Ella stood in place, panic locked on her face. Even Garrick was caught in mid-swing, the blade inches from Nolan’s head.
Nolan exhaled slowly. "So... he really intended to kill . For what? I didn’t even do much. Just a rookie, and this guy wanted dead."
He circled around Garrick calmly, inspecting the frozen mont. Then he plucked the sword from Garrick’s stiff hands and let it drop to the ground with a loud clang that echoed unnaturally in the silence.
"What do I do now?" he mused aloud. "I could cut him here... maybe his arm, maybe his leg. But then people will know I’m stronger than I should be. A rank E defeating a rank D? That would only draw attention."
He smirked. "And I don’t want attention. I just want to live quietly."
He picked up Garrick’s sword again, walked to the frozen crowd, and tossed it far into their midst. "There. Let’s see how they explain that one."
With a sigh, Nolan whispered, "Release."
The world lurched back into motion. The crowd’s cheers turned into confusion as they noticed Garrick was suddenly unard.
"What?!" soone shouted.
"Where’s his sword? He had it a second ago!"
"Did it vanish?!"
Even Garrick faltered. His eyes darted to his empty hands, then to Nolan. Did he...? No. Impossible. How could he...?
Snarling, Garrick rushed forward anyway, throwing a punch at Nolan’s stomach.
The blow landed solidly—but Nolan didn’t feel a thing. That’s it? Pathetic. But I’d better act like it hurt...
He staggered back, clutching his stomach, and collapsed to the ground. "Ouch... I give up! I give up!"
The cloaked man raised his hand. "Opponent defeated! Winner—Garrick!"
The crowd groaned in disappointnt.
"What a waste of ti!"
"That wasn’t even a fight!"
"Pathetic..."
One by one, they began to scatter.
Garrick blinked as his sword suddenly clattered to the ground beside him. He stared at it, confused. Did I... really win? Was it that easy? His frown twisted into a grin. "Heh. Guess I did."
As the crowd dispersed, Linda and Celia rushed to Nolan’s side, kneeling beside him.
"Master, are you okay?" Linda asked, grabbing his hand.
"Why didn’t you fight back? You could’ve beaten him!" Celia pressed, frustration in her voice.
Nolan let them pull him up, brushing dust off his clothes. He gave a small, tired smile. "Honestly? I didn’t even feel his punch. Not one bit."
"I’m so sorry and thanks for having rcy on him," Ella muttered, then turned and walked back into the Adventurer’s Guild.
Nolan glanced at Celia and Linda. "Looks like we’re going to have to get going. But you two—wait here. Just give a few seconds."
"Master, where are you going?" they asked at the sa ti, worry in their voices.
"I’ll be back," Nolan assured them, before slipping around the corner.
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