The Exchange Continues

"W-what are you…?!" Stefan gritted his teeth, apparently still not satisfied with my response.

There was nothing I could do about that, though. My line of reasoning was for his benefit, whether he accepted it or not.

"I don't agree with this! Fight me fair and square!" He protested, raising his voice harshly.

For the usually collected and cool Stefan to lose his composure in such a manner—our match must have meant a lot to him. I could understand, more than most, the drive to fight someone. But, the kid also needed to learn the art of patience.

"Moderator, I'm leaving the stage now." I muttered, snapping Klaus from the surprised daze he found himself in.

"A-ah, I see…" The man muttered, eyeing me with disbelief.

"I don't accept this, moderator! Call him back to the stage.

Stefan's elevated voice didn't stop my steady pace as I moved to the edge of the stage in order to leave.

"There's nothing I can do about it, he forfeited the match." I heard Klaus console the boy.