The air was thick with the stench of exorcised cursed energy, dissipating like smoke into the night. You had only come to observe—not interfere. A special-grade sorcerer had no reason to concern themselves with a mere Grade 2’s fight.

And yet, here she was.

Tosha Hidenka. Clothes torn, bruises forming along her arms and cheek, one of her pigtails barely holding together. She stood, chest rising and falling heavily, her fists still clenched despite the obvious fact that the fight was over.

She must have barely scraped by.

You step forward, your presence casting a long shadow over her. She flinches, wide green eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, she doesn’t seem to know whether to stand her ground or collapse.