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

Lysette didn't sit idle—her hand slipped between Terya's legs, fingers joining the action.

She rubbed slow circles on her clit, smirking when Terya's hips stuttered.

"Don't fall apart yet," she said, voice thick. "We're only warming up."

Zara moved behind Leon now—kneeling, arms around him, lips brushing the sweat on his nape.

Her hands spread across his chest, possessive.

"You're ours now," she murmured, tongue dragging slow up his neck. "Not just for magic. For this."

Terya came with a strangled cry, muscles clenching around him like a fist, her whole body seizing.

She ground against him, chasing every last ripple, her voice low and broken.

"Don't stop," she begged, breath catching. "Keep going. Fuck—keep going."

But Leon was close again—too close—and Lysette knew it.

She pulled Terya off gently, breathless and boneless, then pushed Leon back until he was lying on the furs.

His cock stood slick and twitching, soaked in both of them.

Lysette mounted him next, slower than Terya, but no less hungry.

She slid down his length inch by inch, her mouth open, eyes fluttering as he filled her.

"Gods," she whispered, breath hitching. "You feel bigger every time."

Leon grabbed her hips and thrust up once, sharp.

She gasped, moaned high, braced herself on his chest.

"Fuck me like that," she hissed. "Don't hold back."

He didn't.

He pounded up into her, hips snapping, her ass slapping against his thighs.

Lysette's hair flew wild, her moans turning shameless, desperate, needy.

Zara and Terya flanked them, mouths on Leon's chest, licking, biting, praising, hands moving over his legs, over Lysette's breasts, tweaking, stroking, fingering.

It was a feast of skin, heat, breath, wet friction and raw need.

Lysette came with a full-body shudder, slamming down onto his cock with a keening wail, her pussy spasming tight around him.

She rode every pulse of it, hips jerking, fingernails digging into his chest.

Leon couldn't stop. He flipped her onto her back, never pulling out, and fucked her harder—his hands on her hips, his body flushed with sweat and power.

Zara kissed her, open-mouthed, moaning into her as Leon fucked both their voices raw.

Terya sat back, legs spread, fingering herself as she watched.

"Finish in her," she whispered. "Fill her up. She needs it."

Leon drove into Lysette one last time—hard, deep—and came with a roar.

His cock throbbed, spilling inside her, hot and thick, their bodies locked as the magic surged again.

Wind howled, the tent flared with golden light, and the Veil itself recoiled from the force.

They lay tangled in the aftershock, a mass of limbs, breath, sweat.

Zara ran her fingers over Leon's chest, whispering ancient words into his skin.

Terya kissed his mouth soft this time, tasting his exhaustion.

Lysette lay against his side, panting, her thighs still trembling, his cum leaking from her slowly onto the furs.

Outside, the festival roared.

Inside, Leon was full again—of magic, yes, but also of them.

Of touch, of scent, of purpose.

_________

_________

The path to the ruined Lysaran temple wound through jagged stone, half-swallowed by the creeping roots of the Bloodweave, their gnarled tendrils glistening with blood-red sap.

Crimson mist coiled around Leon's boots as he stepped through the shattered threshold, his hand gripping his reforged dagger, though his wind and light magic were his true weapons now.

Behind him, Terya, Zara, and Lysette followed in tense silence, the air thick with the Crimson Veil's oppressive weight, its whispers slithering like venom.

You'll fail them. You always do.

The temple loomed, a husk of its former sanctity, its bone-white arches stretching toward a crimson sky.

Shattered stained glass windows lined the chamber, their shards embedded in the cracked marble floor, depicting Lysara's fall in haunting beauty—her golden wings broken, her divine body consumed by crimson flames.

Bone altars lined the walls, veins of pulsing red webbing through them like a living infection, their surfaces slick with sap that dripped like molten rubies.

The temple had once radiated hope; now, it bled despair, the Veil's corruption seeping into every crack.

"Stay close," Leon said, his voice steady despite the weight pressing on his chest, his light magic pulsing faintly.

He extended a hand, a golden beam flaring from his palm, cutting through the thick mist, illuminating the chamber ahead.

The wall it struck shimmered and vanished, revealing a hidden hallway winding deeper into the temple's heart.

"An illusion," Lysette whispered, her voice trembling, her white robe clinging to her sweat-slicked frame, torn at the thigh to reveal the curve of her leg.

Her emerald eyes widened, her light magic flickering in her hand, uncertain.

Leon turned to her, his gaze softening.

"Your training worked. That was textbook," he said, nodding to the vanished wall.

Lysette's eyes were distant, fixed on something unseen, her light magic faltering.

The crimson mist thickened around her, forming ghostlike figures—women in white robes, kneeling before burning altars, one bearing Lysette's face, her expression twisted in anguish.

"I watched my people fall," she murmured, her voice cracking. "I couldn't stop it. And now the Veil shows me the moment over and over again."

Leon stepped beside her, brushing her hand with his, his golden warmth grounding her, a spark of light magic passing between them.

"They're illusions," he said gently. "Not memories. Not truths. You stopped it this time. You saved them. And you're saving more now."

A breath hitched in her throat, her emerald eyes meeting his, the tremble easing as she nodded, her light magic steadying.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft but resolute, a spark of trust igniting.

Zara moved past without a word, her axe slicing through a mass of blood-vines slithering from the ceiling, their crimson tendrils hissing as they fell.

Her curse marks glowed faintly along her thigh, pain evident in her clenched jaw, her silver hair plastered to her bronze skin.

She pressed on, her steps heavy but unyielding, her blue eyes scanning the shadows.

Terya took the lead, her wind arcs slicing through vines ahead, her leather top clinging tight to her curves, a strap slipping off her shoulder as she dodged a darting trap, her blonde hair whipping in the breeze.