Leon's heart pounded like a war drum as he trailed Saria through Eldwood's fog-choked streets, the smooth stone still warm in his clammy hand.
The war drums thundered closer, now joined by screams and the crackle of fire.
Leon's grip on the stone tightened, its faint heat a lifeline against the panic clawing at his chest.
"So, uh," he said, his voice trembling, "this front line… it's, like, safe for a newbie, right? I just heal people, no fighting?" He tried to sound casual, but the words came out in a nervous squeak.
Saria didn't turn, her voice as flat as ever. "For now you heal. I fight. Stay behind me and don't die." Her tone offered no reassurance, just cold pragmatism that made Leon's knees wobble.
Granny Elda, hobbling a few steps behind, cackled.
"Don't die! Good advice, girl. Boy's got the spine of a jellyfish." Her staff tapped the ground, and Leon shot her a glare, though it was more petulant than defiant.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. His mind raced, replaying the goblin's death, the Solberry's tang, and Saria's… ritual.
The memory of her lips sent a flush through him, but he shoved it down.
Focus, Leon. Monsters. Healing. Not… that.
He clutched the stone tighter, trying to channel the faint spark of magic he'd felt earlier.
They reached the edge of the village, where a makeshift barricade of wooden crates and sharpened logs marked the front line.
Ragged townsfolk stood in a loose formation—archers with notched arrows, spearmen gripping their weapons with white knuckles, and a few mages muttering incantations, their hands glowing faintly.
Beyond the barricade, shapes moved in the fog: green goblins skittering like roaches, red-scaled kobolds darting between trees, and bat-like imps flapping overhead, their screeches piercing the night.
The air reeked of smoke and blood, and Leon's stomach lurched.
"Oh, crap," he whispered, his eyes wide. "This is… this is real." His legs felt like they might give out, and he leaned against a crate, clutching the stone like a lifeline.
Saria stepped forward, her sword raised, her face still expressionless.
"Stay here," she said, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"Watch and learn." Without another word, she vaulted the barricade, her movements fluid and precise.
Her hands flared with fire, her curse now broken, and she unleashed a torrent of flames that engulfed a cluster of goblins.
Their screeches turned to agonized wails as they burned, the stench of charred flesh filling the air.
Leon gaped, his fear momentarily forgotten.
"Holy… she's a badass," he muttered, his eyes glued to Saria as she carved through the monsters, her sword flashing and flames roaring.
He wanted to cheer, but the sight of a kobold lunging at a spearman snapped him back to reality.
The man cried out, blood seeping from a gash on his arm as he stabbed wildly at the creature.
Saria's voice cut through the din.
"Leon! Heal him!" She didn't look back, her focus on an imp diving at her, which she incinerated with a flick of her wrist.
Leon's heart leapt into his throat.
"Heal? Me? Now? How?" he stammered, his hands shaking as he scrambled over the barricade.
He stumbled, nearly dropping the stone, and crouched beside the wounded spearman.
The man's face was pale, his arm bleeding heavily, and Leon's mind blanked.
"Okay, uh, healing. I can do this," he muttered, his voice high with panic.
He placed a trembling hand on the man's arm, the blood slick under his fingers.
Focus. Like with the stone.
He closed his eyes, picturing the warmth he'd felt earlier, the spark of magic.
His mind wandered, unhelpfully, to Saria's ritual—the heat of her mouth, the intensity of her gaze—and a flush of arousal surged through him.
The stone in his other hand grew hot, and a warm tingle spread from his fingers into the spearman's wound.
The gash knitted closed, the bleeding stopped, and the man's eyes widened.
"Gods above," the spearman said, flexing his arm. "You're a healer? Thanks, kid—er." He clapped Leon's shoulder, nearly knocking him over, and charged back into the fray.
Leon stared at his hand, his breath ragged.
"I… I did it," he whispered, a spark of pride cutting through his fear. He'd healed someone.
Actually healed them. But the moment was short-lived as another scream rang out—a woman archer clutching a slashed leg, blood pooling beneath her.
"Leon!" Saria's voice snapped him back, her face still a blank mask as she burned through a pair of kobolds. "Keep moving!"
He scrambled to the archer, his heart pounding.
"Okay, okay, I got this," he said, more to himself than to her. He touched her leg, focusing again, and the same warm tingle flowed through him.
The wound closed, and the archer gave him a shaky nod before nocking another arrow.
Leon's head spun, a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline making his limbs heavy.
This is insane. I'm actually doing it.
But his magic flickered, the warmth in his hand fading as he tried to heal a third wounded fighter.
His vision blurred, and he swayed, clutching the crate for support.
"Crap… why's it not working?" he muttered, his voice weak.
Saria appeared beside him, her sword dripping with dark blood, her face still expressionless.
"You're drained," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Your magic needs energy. Stay back until you recover."
Leon's face flushed, his mind flashing to the ritual again.
"Energy… you mean, like…" He trailed off, too embarrassed to say it.
Arousal. Of course.
He glanced at Saria, her leather tunic streaked with soot, her dark eyes unreadable.
The idea of needing that to recharge in the middle of a battle was both thrilling and mortifying.
Saria's eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest hint of understanding. "Not now," she said, her voice sharp. "Focus on staying alive. We'll deal with your magic later." She turned back to the fight, her flames roaring as she cleared a path through the monsters.
Leon nodded, his throat tight.
He stayed behind the barricade, watching as Saria and the townsfolk fought, his hands clenched around the stone.
The battle raged on, goblins and kobolds falling under Saria's fire and the defenders' weapons.
Leon's heart raced, a mix of fear and awe at Saria's power, and a growing determination to keep up.
He'd healed two people.
He'd felt his magic.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the scared gamer who'd tripped into this world.
As the wave of monsters thinned, Saria returned, her face still a blank mask but her breathing slightly heavier.
"You did well," she said, her tone flat but carrying a hint of approval. "For a beginner."
Leon managed a shaky grin, his exhaustion tempered by pride.
"Thanks. I think." He glanced at the battlefield, the ground littered with monster corpses and the air thick with smoke. "Is… is it over?"
Saria shook her head. "This was a small wave. Vraxus will send more." She sheathed her sword, her eyes scanning the fog. "Rest. Train. You'll need to be ready."