30 - In Sasha’s clutches

With slowness and a certain composure, the spectators file out of the stands in neat rows—a level of order I'm completely unaccustomed to. Back in my soccer days, the bleachers would empty in a chaotic stampede, reminiscent of the frantic crowds in Pamplona fleeing the running of the bulls. Even Levreshka departs from the Valakys family's privileged seating, her irritation plain on her face—whether it's due to my presence or her frustration at having missed the chance to fully enjoy a fight between mere humans, I can't say. She mutters under her breath about the necessity of implementing serious measures to curb the growth of familiars' strength before vanishing from sight.