Angor looked around and saw Toby sleeping nice and sound.
“Hey, I didn’t do it. It fainted on its own,” Shadow quickly said as he waved a hand to deny the possible assumption that Angor was thinking about. “I already checked. The bird got no wounds. Not outside, not inside. Now that’s weird. You woke up, but it’s still sleeping.”
Angor put a hand on Toby and felt the healthy warmth as well as heartbeats.
“See? So, my compensation?” Shadow chuckled.
“Ha, I see. So what do you want?”
Shadow crept closer and said in a timid voice, “I want no physical reward. How about… you? I mean, give me your shadow. Oh man, I want to put you in my display case. You’re not a mortal anyway, losing your shadow won’t do anything to you.”
“And you think I’ll agree? Did you ask Krakoks to collect shadows just for your collection?”
“Yeah. I’m going to present a gallery show in Floating Mech City, filled with the shadows of blond hair and blue-eyed beauties!”
“You can’t see anything on a shadow anyway. It’s all black.”
“I’ll just have to turn them into puppets!”
A Krakok giggled and appeared on Shadow’s hand as it presented him with another twitching sack.
“Someone’s shadow again?”
“Yup.”
“Not interfering with mortals was the first lesson I learned after coming to the wizarding world,” Angor commented as he stared at the moving sack.
“Are you asking me to set them free?”
“I’m simply reminding you to stay low.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me. Let me see… I can return all the shadows if you give me yours. What do you say?”
Angor only gestured toward the door. He wasn’t going to trade his own freedom for the lives of someone else. He wasn’t a saint, nor would he become one just because someone asked him to do some moral-related stuff.
When Shadow had left, Angor put a hand on his chest again— to feel his heartbeat this time.
At least he was alive. This was what mattered.
When he saw the terrible wound on his chest back in the dark room, he hated both Shadow and himself.
He regretted not killing Shadow when he still had a chance. He blamed himself for being stupid since he never noticed Shadow’s “hint”. His arrogance almost cost him his own life again.
Now that he was alive, he still had a chance to amend his naive mind.
He was determined to never underestimate any opponent from now on. Even when the world’s consciousness was governing their pact, a small smart move could still ruin the whole situation.
…
For the next few days, Shadow didn’t come to visit. Angor’s spirit feelers told him that Shadow did not remain in the ranger house. However, the man left two puppets behind, one of which was Magician.
Without minding the puppets, Angor began to study to cast Heal.
After two days, he succeeded. The cantrip created a pale-green light that slowly sank into his broken ribs.
Using his spirit feelers, he could feel his bones slowly fixing up under the light.
Since the cantrip was working, Angor planned to get out of the ranger’s house… on condition that he could walk back to Water Grasse without tearing up his wound again.
He checked and assumed that it would be fine, as long as nothing intentionally shocked him.
He spent another night on his bed. When he was getting his clothes, he found his overcoat in a bad shape. It gained a big hole in the chest area which couldn’t be repaired.
It meant his valuable magic coat had officially lost its magic after having served him for only half a year.
“Ugh… such a waste.” He shook his head and put the coat inside his bracelet. The built-in magic was beyond repair, but at least, the fabric was still useful.
He found another casual outfit.
Without the strange-colored overcoat, his top hat would only appear weirder now; therefore, Angor put away the hat before he stepped out of the bedroom.