"What do you mean? 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 moment, 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. Excitement 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 mean I accepted? I never agreed to this."
