Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?
Chapter 52: god

Chapter 52: god

"Worse. She tried to become a god."

The air held still, the whispers of the forest fading for a moment. Terya frowned, her smirk gone. "She descended," she said, her voice low.

Zara nodded, her hand brushing the curse marks on her thigh.

"Her name was Anveyra, priestess of Lysara. She believed if she bled herself on all thirteen altars, Lysara would raise her as a divine vessel. But something went wrong. She didn’t ascend. The ritual shattered the veil between worlds. Let in something else. Something alive."

Leon swallowed, the weight of her words settling in his chest.

"The Crimson Veil," he said, his voice quiet, the name heavy.

Zara’s gaze dropped to the glowing red script crawling up her thigh. "It feeds on despair. It twists forests, poisons spells, and binds itself to people. Like me." She paused, her voice cracking slightly.

"Now, the forest itself serves it. And it doesn’t want help."

Leon stared at the remains of his failed spell, his hand twitching.

"No pressure or anything," he muttered, a wry grin breaking through his unease.

Zara’s lips twitched, a dry smirk.

"If your magic’s as weak as your flirting, we’re doomed," she said, her voice deadpan.

Terya burst out laughing, flopping onto her side, her cloak tangling in the dirt. "Oh gods—finally, someone says it!"

Leon held up his hands, his grin widening. "I’m a healer, not a poet."

"You’re lucky you’re cute," Terya said, poking his ribs, her green eyes sparkling.

Zara leaned back with a grunt, wincing as the curse marks flared again, the red glow pulsing brighter.

Leon’s grin faded, concern flooding his face, but she waved him off, her voice firm.

"Save your strength, kid. This thing doesn’t like to be poked twice in one day." Her blue eyes lingered on him, a moment longer than necessary, a spark of curiosity breaking through her tough exterior.

As the three lay beneath a sky painted with red haze and dying stars, the forest around them whispered—names, warnings, futures, the voices curling through the mist.

Terya curled close to Leon under the shared blanket, her warmth pressing against him, her breath soft against his ear.

"We’ll make it," she whispered, her voice free of its usual tease, her green eyes steady. "You’ve got wind. You’ve got me."

Leon, despite the chill, felt heat bloom in his chest—not from fire, but from her, the bond pulsing strong.

Zara lay nearby, her axe within reach, her blue eyes fixed on the red sky, silent but watchful.

The forest’s whispers grew louder, the Crimson Veil’s presence a weight in the air, and Leon’s fingers tightened around the amulet from Granny Elda, its runes cool but heavy, waiting for the moment they’d glow.

__________

The mist thickened by the hour, a heavy, crimson veil that clung to every leaf, every shadow, bathing Vyrneth’s forest in a faint, pulsing red glow despite the absence of a moon.

The trees whispered louder now, their voices ancient, untranslatable, like breath drawn through bone, weaving through the gnarled branches.

Their bark pulsed with red veins, roots clawing at the ground, oozing sap that smelled of copper and rot.

Leon sat near the dying campfire, his pack at his side, his reforged dagger glinting faintly in the red light.

He tried—again—to summon a spark, his hand trembling, fingers spread, focus honed.

"Fireball," he muttered, his voice low.

Nothing.

Just a curl of smoke, then silence.

He exhaled sharply, frustration tightening his jaw. "Useless."

Terya sat across from him, legs crossed, chewing a strip of dried fruit, her chainmail creaking softly, her green eyes gleaming in the murk.

"You’re not useless," she said, her smirk lazy but warm. "Just... unplugged."

Leon didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on his hand, the amulet from Granny Elda cool against his chest.

Zara lay nearby, her muscular frame curled under a blanket, her silver hair splayed, her curse marks pulsing faintly as she slept, her axe propped against a tree.

Terya stood, stretching, her short cloak lifting to reveal the curve of her hips.

"Come on," she said, her voice soft but insistent.

"Walk with me." Her boots were silent on the cursed ground as she led him away from camp, past Zara’s sleeping figure, past the creaking, blood-weeping trees, to a clearing surrounded by bloodvine roots and pale ferns.

The mist was thinner here, the silence deeper, the air cool but heavy.

Leon started to speak, but Terya put a finger to his lips, her touch warm, her green eyes steady.

"Just listen to the wind for a second," she said, her voice low, intimate.

A gentle rustle stirred behind her—her wind magic, familiar, not the forest’s eerie whispers.

She stepped closer, her body brushing his, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur.

"You’re carrying too much in your head, Leon. Let me help."

Before he could reply, her fingers were at his belt, deftly undoing it, her touch sure but gentle. His breath caught, his heart racing. "Terya, I—"

"Shh," she said, her smile soft, her eyes glinting with warmth. "Don’t think. Just feel."

She knelt before him, drawing his trousers down, the cool air meeting his skin, followed by the warmth of her hand wrapping around his cock with a slow grip.

Leon’s eyes fluttered, a soft groan escaping as she began to stroke him—slow, steady, sensual, her thumb tracing the ridge, her fingers curling just right, each motion confident, playful but never mocking.

She leaned in, her lips brushing his jaw, then his neck, soft kisses turning to slow, wet licks, her breath hot against his skin.

"I keep telling you. You might’ve lost fire," she whispered, her tongue flicking the shell of his ear, "but you’ve still got breath. You’ve still got me."

Her pace quickened, her hand gliding with a teasing rhythm, her other hand gripping his thigh, grounding him as his hips twitched forward.

Leon groaned, his hands clenching her shoulders, his body trembling under her touch.

The red mist stirred around them, a ripple of breeze forming at their feet, Terya’s wind magic resonating with their bond.

Her strokes grew faster, her lips sucking gently at his neck, her voice a low murmur. "That’s it. Let go."