Allen's collapse brought the entire scene to life.
Although he'd fought with incredible flair earlier, things clearly couldn't revolve around his own enjoyment—especially after taking down so many professors and still bouncing around, leaving them no way out.
Now that he was lying there, many difficult problems seemed to vanish on their own. Everyone could save face, right?
While the Japanese headmaster and Dumbledore were discussing the situation, Allen weakly pointed to the crazy woman risking her life for his niece and muttered to his own Head of House:
"Cough cough… Professor, remember to ask for my share of the food expenses."
He had feigned fainting precisely for this moment—there was no way he'd let her off so easily.
"Food expenses?" Professor Sprout raised an eyebrow.
Allen added, "And foster care costs, report them together to that lady. Oh, and my reputation loss, medical expenses…"
He stopped midway when he noticed the professor's expression darken.
A moment later, Sprout rubbed her forehead, used magic to move Allen next to a tree, and said with exasperation:
"Forget it, you little money-grubber!"
She then headed toward Dumbledore, apparently intending to personally report on this troublesome student.
Done—although Allen had no idea how much mental preparation Dumbledore would need to handle such a nearly shameless request, since the professor was taking it personally, Dumbledore would surely comply.
And as for whether this kind of extortion was excessive?
Not at all—Allen was severely injured, lying there helpless. A few Galleons were hardly too much.
Allen watched the negotiation with a smile. Judging by the Japanese headmaster's barely contained expression, they hadn't gotten off cheaply—such matters wouldn't be publicly disclosed to students, and a private negotiation was standard.
After all negotiations concluded, Professor Sprout returned to Allen, leaning against the tree, and brought excellent news.
One thousand shiny gold Galleons would soon be Allen's—just the basic amount.
For any wizard, even this was a modest reward.
A full set of seven exclusive spells, along with all related techniques and notes—Allen would need to swear an unbreakable oath not to share them.
The Japanese school's library would be fully open to him for seven days.
Additionally, the woman's personal lab would also be available to Allen, provided he visited to receive her thanks in person.
Sprout whispered, "And don't tell anyone—this is a joint restriction across three schools. Allen, you've gained a lot this time. Dumbledore was terrifyingly forceful in negotiating this."
Her tone shifted slightly:
"Those fools only tried to get away with thirty thousand Galleons! Ridiculous! Allen, this thousand Galleons should last you until graduation. It took the headmaster and me ages to decide this number—mainly because the other side couldn't squeeze out more data. Remember, for a wizard, magical inheritance far outweighs money. You may not fully understand now, but as you progress on your magical journey, you'll see that compared to priceless knowledge, gold is nothing."
She ruffled Allen's hair and smiled, "You've had a lucky break. That lady's identity and strength are formidable. She said she'll personally thank you later. We'll go handle the traces of this incident first."
With that, she went to report to Dumbledore, leaving Allen exhausted.
Thirty thousand!
Thirty thousand gold Galleons!
For someone who'd always been poor, this was astronomical. Thirty thousand Galleons equaled three hundred thousand system coins—enough to overwhelm even Allen's capacity to absorb knowledge through heroic inheritance.
Yet now, those Galleons seemed to sprout little wings and fly away…
In the face of such a massive sum, the joy from a mere thousand Galleons instantly vanished.
Someone call the police! My money's gone!
If he hadn't known the other party wouldn't agree, Allen might have miraculously recovered, rushed forward, and shouted: "I don't need your pity spells—I have thirty thousand Galleons, plenty for me!"
Although the thousand Galleons were about to be delivered, Allen felt utterly defeated, like frost had struck him.
Were the magical inheritances valuable?
Of course—they must have required tremendous pressure from Dumbledore to be handed over.
If Dumbledore hadn't seen potential in Allen for his magical journey, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths—wizards wouldn't part with these treasures for thirty thousand, let alone a hundred thousand Galleons.
But it didn't matter now. What Allen really lacked wasn't knowledge—it was money!
He looked up at the sky, which seemed dim and oppressive.
The darkness grew even heavier, and his vision seemed to blacken—just kidding!
He gently lifted the small fox that had climbed onto his face and set it down. In front of him, the woman stood, her face still bearing the scratches Allen had caused—making him feel a little guilty even considering the thousand Galleons.
Well, a thousand Galleons is still money—one must learn contentment.
For the sake of money, Allen moved his fingers, casting Soraka's healing spell. Light swept across her scratches, and the wounds quickly healed completely, leaving no trace.
This act immediately won her favor—a small "candy" after the fight, which she clearly appreciated.
"Such a miraculous little guy—you were wronged earlier. Are your injuries alright?"
"No, thank you for your concern, sister."
The change in address brought a smile to Allen's face. Once no longer seen as an enemy, few would glare at him now.
"Gah gah!" With a sudden sound, Valor appeared—Allen, having ensured everything was resolved, had let it relax, yet it returned on its own.
As Allen prepared to introduce it, his expression froze—Valor's claws held a bag of dog food, already expertly opened.
Clearly, it had come back to feed its own pet.