Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?-Chapter 34: The Pale Citadel

The trees ended without warning.

One step, they were under a rotting canopy—next, the world opened, raw and desolate.

The Pale Citadel towered ahead, its walls not stone but bones fused with mortar, charred and pulsing with faint red veins like a living wound.

Spires stabbed into the cloud-thick sky, some twisted sideways, others cracked but defying gravity.

In the field between forest and wall, ash. No grass. No bodies.

Just cursed earth and a silence that pressed against the chest.

Saria stood at the front, her torn black robe fluttering, her ponytail tight and sharp, her dark eyes locked on the citadel.

Her voice cut the hush like a blade.

"Form up. This is where the war begins."

No war cry.

Just movement.

The makeshift army surged forward, weapons in trembling hands—hunters, volunteers, remnants of Eldwood’s watch, their mismatched armor clanking.

Leon moved in the center, his black and crimson tunic clinging to his sweat-damp skin, his magic tingling with tension, fire and wind pulsing sluggishly in his chest.

Terya was beside him, her blonde hair catching the dim light, her tight leather pants and plunging top accentuating every sway, a wind spell coiled at her fingertips, her green eyes sharp with focus.

The citadel’s gates didn’t open.

They shattered outward, blasted apart as a wave of corrupted monsters rushed forth—undead beasts with rotting flesh, twisted trolls with jagged spines, humanoid husks with glowing red cracks splitting their skin.

They hit like a tidal wave, a cacophony of roars and screeches.

Screams exploded around Leon.

He raised his hand, fire bursting from his palm, followed by a streaking wind whip.

The hybrid spell tore through two husks, their bodies exploding into ash, the heat singeing his face.

He turned, spotting a guard dragged into the dirt by a troll’s claws.

Leon sprinted, his boots slipping on ash, and reached for the man, casting a healing spell on his crushed leg.

The magic flickered—barely worked, a faint glow stitching the wound but draining him fast.

"Stay with me—!" Leon shouted, his voice raw.

The man blinked, his face pale.

"Th-thank y—" A spear plunged through his back, blood spraying Leon’s face.

The man gasped, eyes wide, and slumped, dead in his arms.

Leon reeled, the blood warm and sticky, his stomach lurching.

Another shout—Tila’s voice.

He ran to her, finding her struggling to pull a wounded teen from under a collapsed beast, its spines dripping ichor.

Leon helped lift the carcass, then threw his hands out, a healing spell surging to mend the boy’s torn shoulder.

It worked—barely—the boy’s breathing stabilizing, but the spell drained Leon instantly, his vision blurring, his magic leaking like water through cupped hands.

He stood, panting, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving.

"Too many... I can’t—"

Behind him, Boren shouted, his axe swinging wildly against a spined ogre, its red-cracked skin gleaming.

Leon turned, spotting a shadow charging from the side.

"Boren! Move!" he yelled, his voice breaking.

Boren looked, his scarred face twisting.

Too slow.

A blade pierced his back, just beneath the ribs, blood spurting.

He turned toward Leon, blood staining his teeth, his eyes wide with shock.

The ogre’s fist slammed down, and Boren’s body crumpled, crushed into pulp against the ash.

Leon screamed, a raw, guttural sound, his knees buckling.

He ran, slipping in the ash, reaching for Boren’s body, but it was limp, unrecognizable, a smear of blood and bone.

"Boren... no..." he choked, his hands shaking, the weight of failure crashing over him.

It wasn’t exhaustion—it was despair.

His hands were bloody, trembling, the cries of the dying echoing—names screamed, bodies falling.

He looked at them all, trying to decide who to save, and knew he couldn’t.

His magic was a dying ember, his chest tight with helplessness.

"Stop freezing!" Terya’s voice snapped, sharp and urgent. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

She grabbed his arm, yanking him behind a bone-white boulder, its surface slick with ash.

Her top was torn, one breast half-exposed, blood on her lip, her green eyes wide—not with fear, but raw urgency.

"You’re empty," she said, her voice low, her hands gripping his shoulders. "You’re burning up, and if you don’t stop, they’ll all die."

"I tried—" Leon choked out, his voice breaking, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "I tried to—"

"I know," she said, her tone softening, her eyes fierce but warm. "But you’re not a god. You can’t save them all."

"I should," he said, his voice a whisper, his hands clenching into fists.

"No," she said, her voice firm.

"You should save who’s left." She leaned close, pressing her lips to his cheek, her breath hot against his skin, grounding him in the chaos. "Recharge now. We don’t have time to fuck—but I can get you just enough."

She slid her hand down his front, her fingers brushing his cock through his trousers, but—

Boom! A nearby explosion shattered the boulder beside them, bone fragments spraying, the shockwave knocking them to the ground.

"Shit!" Terya hissed, dragging him away, her hand tight on his wrist.

"No time."

Leon stood, trembling, his eyes burning, his magic flickering—still low but holding, a faint spark of fire and wind.

He looked back at the blood-soaked field—dead soldiers, dying moans, smoke curling through the air like a shroud.

Saria shouted from the frontline, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Leon! Behind me—now!"

He sprinted, his boots pounding the ash, his heart racing as he reached her.

She stood amidst the fray, her black robe soaked with blood, cuts crisscrossing her arms, her sword glowing red-hot. Her dark eyes met his, fierce but steady, blood streaking her face.

"You have enough for one burst?" she asked, her voice calm despite the carnage.

Leon nodded, his chest tight, his magic a fragile flame but enough.

"Yeah," he said, his voice raw but resolute.

"Then make it count," she said, her eyes burning with trust.

The citadel loomed, its bone walls pulsing, Vraxus’s forces still pouring forth.

Leon’s hands glowed, his magic straining, the weight of Boren’s death and the dying soldiers pressing against him.

But Saria’s command, Terya’s touch, and the faint pulse of his bonds gave him something to hold onto—enough to fight, enough to try.