Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?
Chapter 49: A journey

Chapter 49: A journey

His linen shirt and trousers were patched but sturdy, his boots scuffing the dirt.

Terya adjusted her dagger belts beside him, her chainmail creaking, her blonde hair catching the dawn’s light, her green eyes glinting with her usual grin.

Zara stood slightly apart, leaning on her massive axe, its blade scarred and heavy, her silver hair glinting faintly, her blue eyes sharp despite the faint pulse of curse marks on her thigh.

The soft crunch of boots signaled Saria’s approach.

She wore a ceremonial robe—clean, pressed, its black fabric flowing, her dark braid trailing over one shoulder.

Her expression was unreadable, her dark eyes steady, until she stopped before Leon.

Her hands came up slowly—one resting on his chest, the other cupping his cheek, her touch warm and odd.

Without a word, she pulled him into a deep kiss—slow, lingering, full of everything left unsaid, her lips soft but firm, tasting faintly of honey-wine.

The crowd’s murmurs faded, the world narrowing to her warmth, her breath.

When they parted, her eyes held him, a rare softness breaking through her stoic facade.

"You’re fire now," she whispered, her voice low, heavy with trust. "Even if it fades, you lit something. Don’t forget that."

Leon swallowed thickly, his throat tight, his eyes stinging.

"I won’t," he said, his voice steady despite the weight of her words.

Tila stepped forward next, her hands folded nervously, her brown eyes glimmering with something warmer, deeper than tears.

She hugged Leon suddenly—tight, pressing into his chest, her small frame trembling.

"Be safe," she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Then she tilted her face up, her cheeks flushed, and kissed him—softly, shyly, a brush of lips that carried her quiet courage.

His heart caught, the tenderness overwhelming.

She blushed furiously, pulling back, her eyes darting away.

"Come back to us," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I’ll... I’ll do better at that next time."

Leon smiled through the lump in his throat, his hand brushing her arm.

"You’re perfect already," he said, his voice warm.

Before the mood could grow too heavy, Terya slinked up, her grin wide.

"Alright, my turn," she said, grabbing Leon by the collar and yanking him forward.

Her kiss was fierce, her tongue brushing his, her hips pressing against him with a casual bump, her chainmail creaking.

She pulled back, her green eyes sparkling like morning dew. "Don’t miss me too much, hero."

"Too late," Leon muttered, dazed, a grin tugging at his lips.

Terya’s grin only grew. "Good. I’ll keep you motivated."

Zara stood at the edge, one arm folded across her chest, the other resting on her axe’s hilt, her curse marks pulsing faintly under her torn leathers.

She didn’t speak at first, her blue eyes scanning the group, then gave Leon a firm nod.

"Let’s get this curse out of me," she said, her voice rough but resolute. "And kill whatever’s stupid enough to stand in the way."

Leon nodded back, his jaw tightening.

"We will."

The three stood side by side—Leon, Terya, Zara—ready to face Vyrneth’s shadows.

Leon looked back one last time.

Saria stood with her arms around Tila, her dark eyes steady, a silent promise.

Granny Elda lifted a hand, her staff glinting in the dawn.

A few children waved brightly, their banners fluttering in the breeze.

The villagers’ faces were a mix of hope and fear, their gifts heavy in Leon’s pack.

Terya’s hand slipped around his arm, squeezing gently, her wind magic bond strong and steady.

Zara strode ahead, her axe cutting a path like a blade through tall grass, her silver hair a beacon in the mist.

Leon exhaled, his voice a whisper, mostly to himself but loud enough for the wind to carry.

"I’ll come back," he said. "I promise."

And they stepped into the forest, the mist swallowing Eldwood behind them, Vyrneth’s red horizon waiting ahead.

___________

The gates of Eldwood creaked shut behind them with a final, hollow groan, the sound swallowed by the mist.

Dawn filtered weakly through the trees, offering no warmth, the light dim and tinged with the red hue of Vyrneth’s cursed skies.

The forest ahead seemed to devour the sun, its towering oaks and blood-needled pines twisted unnaturally, their bark cracked and glowing faintly with red veins, like wounds pulsing beneath the surface.

No birds sang.

No insects stirred.

The air was thick, clotted with a faint red mist that clung to their skin, carrying a scent of rust and wet soil.

Leon’s boots crunched softly on the path, his pack heavy on his shoulder, the reforged dagger at his belt a steady weight.

He glanced back one last time, Eldwood’s walls vanishing into the mist, Saria’s kiss still warm on his lips.

Beside him, Terya walked with her usual saunter, her dagger hilts glinting at her hips, her tight leather outfit clinging to her curves in the humid air, her blonde hair catching the dim light.

"We will return, don’t worry hero."

______________

The morning mist was heavier here, thick and clinging, curling around the trio like a shroud as they passed the last hunter’s shrine outside Eldwood’s forest.

The trees thinned, their branches brittle and bare.

Beyond the forest’s curling edge, the sky bled red, a cursed hue that painted the horizon like a wound.

Vyrneth loomed ahead, its presence a weight in the air, oppressive and wrong.

Leon adjusted the strap of his pack, his reforged dagger at his belt, its edge gleaming.

His linen shirt was patched, his trousers tucked into sturdy boots, scuffing the dirt as he stared toward the crimson-tinted horizon.

It was like walking toward a storm made of dried blood and whispers.

"Still time to turn back," he joked, his voice half-hearted, a faint grin masking his unease.

"Not funny, hero," Terya muttered, her smirk betraying her fondness, her green eyes glinting in the dim light.

She swung her staff around once, twirling it behind her neck with a flourish, showing off the lean strength in her bare shoulders.

Her short cloak lifted in the breeze, brushing the curve of her hips, her chainmail creaking softly.

"Besides, you’d miss me."