After taking his bath, Finn was finally blood free. The water had turned red before it ever ran clear. Thick streaks of dark blood had clung to his skin like paint that refused to wash away, pooling at the bottom of the tub until Nadia had quietly drained it and refilled it again. She did not ask questions then. She simply scrubbed.
Nadia was the only one who had seen him and his horse return home. The sight of him arriving like that, soaked in blood and shaking with exhaustion, would have caused panic if anyone else had been around. Luckily, his parents had not yet come back. That alone was a relief.
It meant Finn would not have to explain how their son returned from a wedding looking like someone who had survived a red wedding.
There had been flesh particles under his fingernails. Tiny pieces that refused to come off no matter how much he scrubbed. Nadia had noticed them silently, fetched a small blade, and trimmed his nails herself. She cleaned his ears too, carefully wiping away dried blood and dirt as if this were just another part of her daily duties.
Finn had not stopped staring at his hands the entire time. They were whole.Perfect.
"My lord, if I may ask, what happened?" Nadia finally asked while Finn sat in the dining room, eating.
The food tasted normal, warm bread, soup, roasted meat. The kind of meal meant for comfort, not for someone who had died less than a day ago.
"I was attacked by some wild animals," Finn said after swallowing. "So I fought my way out, made sure I ripped them apart, and that's how I ended up looking like that."
The words felt strange leaving his mouth, but they were safer than the truth. He did not want to tell her what really happened. He wanted to play it safe. He did not want to see fear in her eyes or hear words like abomination, monster, devil, or curse whispered behind his back.
Nadia nodded slowly, accepting the explanation without judgment.
"So… did you bring the wild animals home?" she asked.
"Huh?" Finn froze.
"It would have been such a waste to leave good food behind," Nadia continued calmly. "That could have fed everyone in the household for about a week."
Finn blinked, his brain scrambled for an answer, caught completely off guard by her logic.
"I'll take note of that next time if I happen to see another one, okay?" he said quickly. "I need you not to tell anyone that you saw me looking like that earlier, okay? I don't want to worry them. Especially my mom. She almost lost her son, and if she finds out that I was attacked, she will be… heartbroken."
Nadia lowered her head slightly. "Okay, my lord," she replied.
Later, in the middle of the next day, Finn decided to try out his powers.
Finn stood in front of a thick tree, its bark rough and solid, roots buried deep in the earth.
He rolled his shoulders once and clenched his fist.
"Okay, let's see if I can punch this tree to the ground," he said quietly. "Super punch, here I come…"
He struck.
The moment his knuckles collided with the bark, pain exploded up his arm. It shot from his fingers straight to his shoulder, sharp and violent, like something cracking inside him.
The tree did not move, not even a little.
"Ouch," Finn muttered, pulling his hand back instinctively.
His fingers throbbed. His arm felt pain.
"What happened to my super strength?"
He stepped forward again and punched the tree a second time.
Pain again. The tree remained standing.
"My… powers are gone."
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
After that, Finn went to find one of the nearby farmers. The man froze when Finn told him what he wanted.
Reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable, the farmer raised his fist and gave Finn a weak punch.
"Harder," Finn said.
The farmer hesitated, then punched again, faster this time.
Finn tried to dodge, he failed.
The fist connected cleanly with his face. His super reflexes were gone.
Finn stood there for a moment, breathing slowly as the farmer apologized repeatedly and hurried away.
That was when Finn came to a conclusion.
Maybe his powers only worked when he was in real danger.
Later that evening, Finn found himself in a saloon.
He sat at a table, staring at a cup of liquor that had already been placed in front of him. He had not ordered anything. The barkeep had not even asked.
It was as if the man already knew him.
"Well, looks like the old me was a drunk or something," Finn muttered.
Finn scanned the room slowly. The saloon was loud and alive. Men laughed, argued, slammed mugs together. His eyes paused on four men sitting together, swords resting against their chairs. Their noses and ears were red, faces hardened by years of fighting and drinking.
He watched them for a few seconds.Then shook his head.
"No, I won't survive that," he said quietly.
His gaze shifted.
That was when he saw the fat man, the man sat alone in a corner, drinking his beer peacefully, unaware of Finn's attention.
That will do.
Finn walked over and pretended to trip. His foot caught nothing, but his body lurched forward convincingly. His arm knocked the mug from the man's hand.
Beer splashed across the table and floor.
The man exploded. Before Finn could even react, a fist slammed straight into his eye. There was no warning. No chance to dodge. No sudden surge of reflexes.
Pain bloomed instantly.
Finn stumbled back, vision blurring. Now he knew for sure, his powers were gone.
Finn walked home later that night with a swollen, reddened eye. Every step sent a dull ache through his face. He muttered to himself as he walked, thoughts racing.
He had gained super strength and super reflexes only after he was killed.
Which made him wonder. Were his powers temporary?
Did he need to die to activate them? The idea made his stomach twist.
Finn thought about different ways to die. Over and over again. But every time the thought reached its conclusion, his chest tightened. His hands trembled.
He could not do it himself. His heart would not allow it. So he went with his last option.The farm.
The air smelled of dirt and hay. Finn led a bull out into the open and tried to provoke it. He threw stones. Waved his arms. Even ran straight toward it.
The bull did nothing, it just simply stared at him.
"Good for nothing animal," Finn muttered, turning away.
Then the bull snorted. An angry sound, with a sudden roar, the bull charged.
Finn barely had time to react before he was sent flying. His body slammed into the ground hard, knocking the breath out of him. His head struck the earth with a dull thud.
"Now we're talking," Finn groaned, struggling to get up.
The bull was not done. It charged again.
This time, its horn tore straight through Finn's stomach. Finn died.
Some time later, Finn opened his eyes, still on the farm. His body was whole. No torn flesh. No intestines spilling out. But the blood staining his clothes told the truth.
Finn stood slowly and looked around. The bull was gone.
That bull had been the only one the family owned. And now it had disappeared.
Just as Finn wondered whether his powers had returned, the bull appeared out of nowhere and charged straight at him.
Finn did not think. He ran, but as he ran, the world around him slowed. No. He was fast.
His legs moved effortlessly. The ground vanished beneath him. The wind tore past his face as his body responded without strain. Super speed.
"Wait a minute," Finn muttered, eyes wide. "Is this some kind of gacha…."