Alkereth was victorious. While he felt a surge of pleasure after her defeat, it quickly disappeared, and now all he could feel was grief. Perhaps it was the priest side of him, but as he watched the Mordecai explode and yell at him, he found that he could not be entirely angry. At the situation, maybe, but not her. She did care, even if it was a bit backwards. It was something he decided to deal with later.
"I hear you. As promised," he said softly, "Good night... Emery."
His spectral form faded into the night.
The body, meanwhile, pulsed gently with its healing glow. Alkereth looked no different than moonlight as he slept there, chest rising and falling.
As time went on, he looked healthier (assuming he had not been stabbed by a certain redhead by now). When daylight sent it's first rays through the trees, Alkereth woke, and slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. His body hurt, but not as bad as it did. He was also undressed. Importantly, his bones healed. Mostly. He checked his arms, covered in filth. His healing never dealt in scouring away dirt and grime, but it did close his deep wounds. He looked over to see if Emery had gone to sleep. Whether she had or not, he rose up, and scoffed at his near naked form.
He heard a babbling creek. He took his sword, his torn and worn clothes, and walked silently towards it. If Emery was awake at this point, he would mutter at her to avert her gaze, the pervert!, and explain he wanted to wash himself. She could try and stop him, or come watch, he'd add cheekily. If she was still asleep, then it would make for a more peaceful and quick task ahead.
The creek was deep in the middle, and it was surrounded by trees. He sighed, and buried his sword into the ground for safekeeping. Then he took a quick swim, pleased by the cool water. When he had finished, he left the creek and looked at the state of his clothes.
He took up his clothes, held out his right hand, and muttered foreign words. The clothes began to mend themselves beneath the soft glow of his palm. Next, he had cast a spell to scour away the filth. When he had done, his clothes looked good as new.
"I should reserve some of my energy... I don't have much..." His stomach growled. Loudly. "Oh, right."
Alkereth vaguely wondered if there was game in the woods as he clothed himself, sheathing his sword. He was not sure of what kind of animals lived here. Rabbits? Deer? Or better yet, were they close enough to a village to maybe scrounge for some food? He was not the type to steal, but if neither of them had money... okay, hunting it is.
Luckily, there was a fat hare munching on some grass. So! This world had hares. He inched his way and studied it for a moment. He raised up his hand, and sent out a zap of electricity at it. At first, he missed. He poked out his tongue in concentration as he sent more zaps at the confused fat hare, who started bumbling about. Finally, when a zap hit it, it fell over, paralyzed.
Alkereth stepped up to it with a frown. "I am sorry, little friend. Lazamar will soon take you. Be at peace." He cradled the fat hare, before breaking its neck. A swift kill. The hare, he noticed, was getting on in years anyway. It was the ideal prey.
He brought the hare back to their little camp.
He actually came back.