Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?
Chapter 48: Saved

Chapter 48: Saved

The air in one of the chapel’s chamber was still and heavy, the scent of old parchment and wax lingering.

The old war maps had been rolled up, the healing herbs and battle plans packed away, only a single candle lighting the center of the table, casting long shadows across the aged wood.

Zara rested in the chapel’s infirmary, her curse marks still pulsing, her condition stable but fragile under the holy water’s temporary relief.

Leon stood with his arms crossed, staring at nothing in particular, his linen shirt loose but clinging to his sweat-damp frame.

"We just stopped a Demon Lord. Saved the village. I thought... that was enough," he said, his voice low, a mix of exhaustion and resolve.

Terya leaned on a chair beside him, her grin lazy, her chainmail creaking faintly, her blonde hair catching the candlelight.

"It was enough. Until it wasn’t," she said, her green eyes glinting with mischief but tempered by the weight of Zara’s arrival.

"I’m not some wandering hero," Leon muttered, his hand brushing the reforged dagger at his belt, its blade gleaming faintly. "I’m a healer. That’s what I do."

From the far corner, Granny Elda let out a sharp cackle, her hood drawn, her staff clicking as she stepped from the shadows.

"Destiny don’t give a shit what you think you are, boy," she rasped, her eyes glinting. "It’s what you do that matters."

Leon flinched slightly but didn’t argue, his jaw tightening.

Saria stepped forward from the window, her posture straight, composed, her patched armor creaking, her black hair tied back.

Her dark eyes held a softness beneath the surface, a rare warmth breaking through her stoic facade.

"You saved this place. Gave it hope again," she said, her voice steady but heavy. "But there’s still darkness outside Eldwood. You’re needed elsewhere now."

Leon turned to her, his heart skipping. "Are you coming?"

She paused, her eyes flickering with conflict. Then she shook her head. "I want to.

You know that," she said, her voice low. "But I’m the chief’s daughter. This is my home. If something worse comes while we’re gone..."

"You’ll make sure Eldwood stands," Leon finished, his voice soft but firm, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

She nodded, her gaze steady, a silent promise.

Tila was curled near the bench, organizing healing satchels and bandages, her fingers deft but hesitant. She looked up at Leon, her brown eyes shy but determined.

"I’ll stay too," she said quietly, her voice trembling with resolve.

"You don’t have to," Leon replied, his tone gentle, his eyes meeting hers.

"I want to," she said, her smile faint but warm.

"To help Saria. To make sure Eldwood stays safe... so you can come back." Her cheeks flushed, but her gaze held steady.

"Besides," she added, her voice softer, "you’ve got someone else keeping you warm."

Terya stretched her arms over her head, her chainmail creaking, her grin wide.

"Guess that’s my cue," she said, bumping her hip into Leon’s, her touch playful but grounding. "I’m going with you, hero. Don’t argue."

Leon raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Because you want to help?"

"Because someone’s gotta keep you alive," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "And maybe... keep you company in the cold nights."

His magic stirred faintly, a coil of heat behind his ribs, not from fear but anticipation, his bond with Terya pulsing softly.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Deal."

They laid out the map on the table, its edges curling, Vyrneth marked in dark red ink—a wound on the parchment, its hills and marshes stretching like a creeping shadow.

"We’ll need Bloodvine fruit," Leon said, his voice steady, his eyes tracing the map. "The curse won’t break without it."

"And steel," Terya added, her hand resting on her daggers. "Something to kill that Dreadwraith if it shows."

Leon drew the reforged dagger from his satchel—the same one from the goblin kill, now gleaming with a sharper edge.

"This’ll do," he said, his voice firm.

Granny Elda approached, limping slowly, her staff clicking.

"You’ll need more than steel and berries," she muttered, pulling a chain from her robes—an old amulet, tarnished silver with a spiral of runes etched deep.

She pressed it into Leon’s hand, her grip surprisingly strong.

"This’ll glow when the Veil whispers. Won’t stop it—but it’ll warn you."

Leon blinked, the amulet cool against his palm. "Why do you have this?"

"Didn’t say I didn’t wander in my youth," she snapped, her eyes glinting with secrets. "Now take it and don’t die."

The group began to filter out, supplies packed, plans made, the candle flickering low.

But Saria lingered by the window, her silhouette framed by moonlight.

Leon hesitated, then stepped toward her, his heart heavy.

She turned, her stoic mask slipping, her dark eyes soft with something unspoken.

Her hand came up, gently touching his cheek, her palm cool, steady.

"You’re more than a healer now, Leon," she said, her voice low, warm. "You’re hope. You’re fire. You’re change."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead, a tender, lingering kiss that made his throat tighten.

"Go prove it."

Leon swallowed hard, his eyes stinging, his voice steady despite the weight of her words.

"I will."

________________

Dawn broke softly over Eldwood, the mist clinging to the grass like a final embrace.

The gate creaked open with a groan of old wood, revealing the path to Vyrneth—a winding trail through the dark forest, its horizon tinged red with the strange, cursed hue of a blood-soaked sky.

Villagers gathered quietly, lining the path, their faces solemn but warm.

Some clapped gently, others pressed small bundles into the travelers’ hands—dried herbs, travel bread, a flask of honey-wine—as parting gifts.

It wasn’t loud, but it was heartfelt, a silent promise of hope.

Leon stood with his pack slung over one shoulder, his reforged dagger at his belt, its gleaming edge a reminder of his first kill.