Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?-Chapter 28: Flame Arc

The midday sun hung high over Eldwood, its light filtering through the chapel's stone walls, casting dappled shadows across the training yard.

A cool wind sliced through the air, rustling the leaves of the lone tree where Terya leaned, her blonde hair dancing, her leather vest unzipped just enough to catch Leon's eye.

Saria stood firm, her sword gripped loosely, her black ponytail still, her dark eyes fixed on Leon with unyielding expectation.

Leon stood in the yard's center, chest bare, sweat glistening on his skin, the smooth stone in his hand pulsing faintly with residual magic.

The bonds in his chest—Saria's fire, Terya's wind—thrummed in harmony, stronger after the night's intimacy, a living current beneath his skin.

"Focus," Saria said, her voice flat but commanding, her leather tunic creaking as she shifted her stance. "Start with a Flame Arc."

Leon nodded, his breath steadying, his grip tightening on the stone.

He pictured the fire, sharp and controlled, fueled by the memory of Saria's thighs against his face, her moans in the candlelit tower.

His arousal sparked, but he channeled it, his magic flaring.

He thrust his hand forward, and a slashing wave of fire roared out, striking a hay-stuffed dummy.

The straw exploded in a burst of flame, embers scattering across the yard, the air thick with the scent of charred grass.

Terya whistled, her green eyes glinting with amusement as she pushed off the tree.

"If he gets any hotter, I'll have to sit on his face again just to keep him grounded," she teased, her voice sultry, her smirk wide.

Saria rolled her eyes, a rare crack in her stoic facade, but she didn't object, her lips twitching faintly.

"Now wind," she ordered, her tone sharp, redirecting the focus.

Leon shifted, drawing on the airy pulse of Terya's bond, picturing the wind as a blade, honed by the memory of her lips on his neck, her hips grinding against him.

He slashed his hand, and a cutting crescent of air whistled through the yard, slicing a second dummy clean in two, the halves toppling with a soft thud.

"Still got it," he said, a grin breaking across his face, his chest heaving with pride.

Saria nodded, her eyes narrowing, a hint of approval in her gaze.

"Combine them," she said, her voice low, carrying the weight of expectation.

Leon closed his eyes, his breath deepening.

The yard faded, the sounds of Eldwood's distant bustle falling away.

He pictured their bodies in the tower—Saria's fierce kisses, Terya's teasing touches, the swirl of heat and breath as their magic entwined.

His arousal rose, a familiar heat in his core, but now he controlled it, no longer a fumbling novice.

He channeled the feeling, letting it merge with the fire and wind in his chest, a fusion of passion and power.

A spiral of flame and wind curled around his arms, visible tendrils of orange and silver dancing like living ribbons.

His eyes snapped open, and he swung—hard.

A hybrid arc fired outward, a spinning blade of burning air that howled through the yard.

It sliced through three dummies in a single pass, straw bursting in fiery clumps, and struck the last one, setting it ablaze with a roar.

The ground trembled faintly, the air crackling with residual magic.

Even Saria stepped back, her sword lowering, her blank mask faltering into a rare moment of surprise.

Terya's smirk faded, her green eyes wide, her lazy posture straightening. "Okay... that was new," she said, her voice a mix of awe and excitement.

Leon exhaled, his chest glowing faintly, a soft light pulsing beneath his skin where the bonds resided.

His breath was ragged, but his grin was wide, a spark of confidence igniting in his eyes.

He wasn't just casting anymore—he was becoming something more, a conduit for fire, wind, and the unique magic that bound him to Saria and Terya.

Saria regained her composure, her face returning to its stoic calm, but her eyes held a new respect.

"You're learning to merge them," she said, her tone measured. "That's not just our magic—it's yours. Keep refining it."

Terya sauntered over, her smirk returning, though her gaze lingered on the smoldering dummies.

"Not bad, rookie," she said, clapping his bare shoulder, her touch lingering. "Keep that up, and Vraxus is gonna have a bad day."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "And I might have to reward you again."

Leon's face flushed, but he met her gaze, his grin steadier now.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, his voice playful but carrying a new edge of confidence.

Saria sheathed her sword, her eyes flicking between them.

"Enough," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "Leon, heal the wounded this afternoon. Terya, help Boren with the militia drills. We move on Vraxus's castle soon. Be ready."

Leon nodded, his chest still glowing faintly, the hybrid magic settling into a quiet hum. "Got it," he said, standing taller, the weight of his role—healer, fighter, hero—feeling less like a burden and more like a purpose.

As Saria turned to leave, Terya lingered, her fingers brushing Leon's arm.

"Don't burn out, hero," she said, her smirk softening into something almost tender. "We need you for the big fight—and the fun after."

Leon's grin widened, the memory of the tower's heat fueling his resolve.

Fire and wind, he thought, flexing his fingers, the stone cool in his hand.

I'm ready.

The training yard was quiet now, the smoldering dummies a testament to his growth, and as he headed toward the chapel to heal, he felt the spark of something new—a hero becoming.