Leon's chest heaved as he leaned against the barricade, his body aching from the strain of the battle and the constant pull of his magic.
The fog around Eldwood was thinning, revealing a battlefield littered with the charred and broken bodies of goblins, kobolds, and imps.
The war drums had fallen silent, replaced by the ragged breathing of the surviving townsfolk and the crackle of dying fires.
His hand still clutched the smooth stone, its faint glow dimming as his magic waned, leaving him feeling like a wrung-out sponge.
The thrill of his small fireball—his wizard moment—still buzzed in his veins, but it was tempered by exhaustion and the lingering fear that he was still, undeniably, a fish out of water in this brutal world.
Saria stood at the center of the barricade, her sword sheathed, her black ponytail barely mussed despite the carnage she'd unleashed.
Her face remained a stoic mask, her dark eyes scanning the horizon for any lingering threats.
The fiery aura around her hands had faded, but her presence was still commanding, a beacon of strength amid the chaos.
Tila, the young archer, and Boren, the grizzled spearman, stood nearby, wiping blood and sweat from their weapons, their faces etched with relief and fatigue.
A shout broke the silence—a cheer from one of the townsfolk, raw and triumphant.
"We did it!" a mage called, his voice hoarse but jubilant.
More voices joined, a wave of cheers rolling through the defenders as they realized the last goblin had fallen, its body crumpling under Boren's spear.
The air filled with laughter, sobs, and shouts of victory, the sound washing over Leon like a tide.
Leon blinked, his tired brain struggling to process it.
"We… won?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His legs wobbled, and he gripped the barricade tighter, a shaky grin spreading across his face.
We actually won.
The thought was surreal, like something out of his favorite anime, but the blood on his hands and the ache in his muscles made it all too real.
Before he could fully grasp it, Saria was beside him, her movements swift and purposeful.
Without warning, she grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him onto her shoulder like he weighed nothing.
Leon yelped, flailing as the ground fell away.
"W-What are you doing?!" he stammered, his face burning as he dangled over her shoulder, his sneakers kicking uselessly.
Saria turned to the crowd, her face still expressionless but her voice carrying a rare note of pride.
"Leon, our savior!" she declared, raising her free hand.
The townsfolk erupted, their cheers deafening, chanting his name—"Leon! Leon!"—like he was some legendary hero.
Tila grinned, pumping her fist, while Boren gave a gruff nod, his scarred face softening slightly.
Leon's face turned the color of a ripe tomato, his hands clutching Saria's shoulder for balance.
"This is so embarrassing," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crowd.
A nervous laugh escaped him, and he couldn't help but grin, the weight of their gratitude sinking in.
He'd healed their wounds, kept them fighting, and even thrown a fireball.
For the first time since tripping into this world, he felt like he might actually belong here.
Saria set him down, her hands steadying him as his legs wobbled.
Her dark eyes met his, still unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—amusement, maybe?—in their depths.
"You did well," she said, her tone flat but carrying a hint of warmth. "For a beginner."
Leon rubbed the back of his neck, his face still flushed.
"Thanks, I think," he said, his voice shaky but genuine.
He glanced at the townsfolk, who were now tending to the wounded and clearing the battlefield, their spirits lifted despite the destruction.
Tila was laughing with another archer, and Boren was barking orders to reinforce the barricade.
Eldwood was still standing, and Leon had helped make that happen.
The realization hit him like a spark, igniting a sense of purpose he'd never felt back on Earth.
He looked at Saria, his mind drifting to the ritual that had broken her curse, the surge of magic tied to his arousal.
It was weird, embarrassing, and undeniably powerful, and it made him unique in a way he'd never expected.
"So, uh," he said, his voice low, "this magic thing… it's pretty wild, huh? I mean, the whole… arousal part." He winced, expecting her to shut him down, but her lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk breaking her stoic facade.
"You'll need more practice," she said, her tone teasing, a rare crack in her usual demeanor. "With me."
Her eyes held his for a moment, and the implication sent a flush of heat through him, his pants tightening despite his exhaustion.
Leon's jaw dropped, his brain short-circuiting.
"I, uh… yeah, okay," he stammered, his face burning. "Practice. Sure. I'm… I'm down for that."
He tried to sound cool, but his voice cracked, and he cursed himself inwardly.
Smooth, Leon. Real smooth.
Granny Elda's cackle cut through the moment, her staff tapping as she hobbled over.
"You have got a long horny way to go," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "But you didn't die, so that's something."
Leon shot her a half-hearted glare, but his grin didn't fade.
He was too tired, too overwhelmed, to care about her teasing.
The townsfolk's cheers still echoed in his ears, and the memory of his fireball—small as it was—felt like a promise of what he could become.
He wasn't the hero he'd dreamed of yet, but he was starting to believe he could get there.
Saria's voice pulled him back.
"Vraxus is still out there," she said, her face returning to its blank mask as she looked toward the dark forest beyond Eldwood.
"This was just a skirmish. He'll gather more forces, stronger ones. We can't wait for him to come to us again." She turned to Leon, her eyes intense.
"We need to take the fight to him. And I'll need you, Leon. Your magic, your healing—it's what kept us alive tonight."
Leon's heart skipped, a mix of fear and determination stirring in his chest.
"Me? Fight a demon lord?" His voice trembled, but he forced himself to meet her gaze. "I'm… I'm not exactly a warrior, you know. I'm still figuring this out."
Saria stepped closer, her presence steady and unyielding.
"You'll get stronger," she said, her tone firm, almost a promise. "I'll make sure of it. We'll train, together. Your magic, your fire—it's only the beginning." Her lips twitched again, that faint smirk returning. "I'll help you. I promise."
Leon's face flushed, her words sparking a mix of nerves and excitement.
Training with Saria?
His mind wandered, unhelpfully, to what that might entail, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the weight of her promise.
She believed in him, or at least she was willing to bet on him, and that was enough to keep him standing.
"Okay," he said, his voice steadier now.
"I'm in. Let's take down this Vraxus jerk." He grinned, a spark of his old nerdy enthusiasm breaking through.
The townsfolk were starting to rebuild, hauling debris and tending to the wounded, their voices filled with hope.
Leon watched them, a sense of purpose settling in his bones.
He wasn't the hero he'd imagined back in his apartment, praying to his waifu figurines, but he was here, in Eldwood, with magic in his veins.
Vraxus was still out there, and other cursed warriors might need him, but for the first time, he felt ready to face it.
Or at least, ready to try.
As Saria led him back toward the church, her hand brushing his arm for a fleeting moment, Leon's grin widened.