The moment the connection to Fabian was lost, Azrael clicked his tongue as he studied the injured Knight.
He couldn't let him die, and it was not because he was worried for him but because Ashelia would be devastated if he did and it would be unbearable to watch.
After a few more minutes passed, he stood up and started pacing restlessly around the room.
The door to the inn's room creaked open moments later, causing Azrael to halt as Fabian entered with a flat expression, he was completely drenched.
Behind him was a middle-aged woman, soaked and holding a large leather pouch.
"I'm back," Fabian announced flatly.
"What took you so long?" Azrael blurted out before he could stop himself, but he quickly dismissed the question. "It doesn't matter. Attend to him," he told the healer as he pointed at the man on Fabian's bed, "as quickly as you can."
The woman nodded quickly and started to approach Edward, but she paused briefly to cast a worried glance in Azrael's direction.
