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As the morning sun rose, Finn pushed aside a bamboo branch and emerged from the forest he had been wandering through all night, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
He spotted a village in the distance, but what caught his attention was the lack of an entrance gate. Instead, the village lay open, with no visible barriers or walls.
Finn's eyebrows rose in curiosity as he approached. This was unlike any village he had seen before—unlike Suna no Mura (Sand Village), which he had left just a day ago. That village had a gate. This one seemed… exposed.
Finn advanced until he was met by a huge village building that had obstructed his view from the moment he stepped out of the bamboo forest. This building had a shattered straw rooftop and fire marks and ash on some parts, burned to a crisp. Finn couldn't help but wonder if the weather had caused the damage.
He moved to the right of the building, wanting to circle around. Reaching into the one-handled cross bag he had received as a token of appreciation from Yashimoto, he pulled out a bread sandwich. He took a bite and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, hoping to quiet his rumbling stomach.
He continued walking, scaling the building until he finally reached its end. As he sailed past the building completely, he was caught by the bright morning sun. It hit his face, and he almost immediately pushed the brim of his straw hat down to shade his eyes. When he finally managed to look up, his eyes widened in shock.
Blood. Everywhere. Splattered on the ground, on the buildings, and on the dead bodies that lay strewn about. Flies buzzed through the air, adding to the gruesome scene.
Finn's eyes widened further as the reality hit him. In that moment, his hands went limp. The bread sandwich he had held fell from his hand, landing in a pool of blood with a sickening splash. The bread turned red, like a sponge soaking up liquid, and began to dissolve.
Finn stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the carnage before him. He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Finn: "This… I… is sickening."
He stood there, shocked and numb, as the silence of the village seemed to press in around him.
Finn's eyes scanned the scene while he took conscious steps forward, taking in the gruesome details of what had happened to the villagers—all dead. He came to a stop as he was met by a young boy, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, lying face down on the ground with a massive stab wound in his upper back. Behind him lay a woman, also on the ground, with a broken spear pierced through the back of her neck. Her body was a few meters back from the boy's.
Finn's face contorted in distaste as the stench of death hit him, and he quickly covered his nose with his arm. The flies, sensing an opportunity, began to swarm around the bodies, covering them in a living, breathing blanket.
Finn took a few steps back, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. "Whoever attacked this village must have been here a week ago, judging by the smell the corpses are giving off right now," he muttered to himself.
His gaze lingered on the boy and the woman, their bodies frozen in death. The boy's position—face down on the ground—suggested he had been running while his mother shielded him from behind while also retreating. Seeing that she had a broken spear in the back of her neck and was likely the first target, Finn thought to himself.
Finn's determination was palpable as he gazed up at the sky, squinting against the bright sunlight for a brief moment before his gaze dropped back down to the lifeless bodies around him. His face was set in a resolute expression.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his exhaustion. His body ached from the previous day's events, and his muscles screamed for rest. But Finn knew he couldn't afford to give in. Not now. Not when he was so close to uncovering the truth.
Finn muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. "I'm lacking in Reiki right now, but I can't help but want to know who did this. This is… this is absurd. Shattering an entire village is madness," he concluded.
His eyes scanned the surroundings, lingering on the destroyed village. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the buzzing of flies and the creaking of charred wood.
Finn's eyes gleamed with fierce intensity as he raised his right hand forward, his index finger extended. He drew a complex kanji symbol in midair that spelled the word TIME. It glowed with a soft red aura. The symbol pulsed with otherworldly energy that brightened the entire area, overwhelming even the deepest, darkest shadows. Finn's face contorted in concentration as he channeled its power.
He then grasped the symbol. A surge of red energy coursed through his body, making his hair stand on end. Finn's eyes flashed open, and he spoke in a low, commanding tone: "Reiki Time!… Hollow Repeat."
The words echoed through the air, and a massive burst of energy exploded from Finn's body, sending dust and debris flying. A barrier of red aura erupted, encasing the entire village in its crimson glow. The villagers' bodies began to emit a faint red mist, and suddenly, transparent red images of the villagers sprang to life, running wildly about the village. Horsemen clad in dark armor galloped through the streets, striking down the fleeing villagers with ruthless efficiency.
The images played out like a gruesome, ghostly reenactment of the village's final moments. Finn watched, transfixed, as the scenes unfolded before him. He saw the villagers trying to flee, the horsemen cutting them down without mercy. The images were fragmented, disjointed, but the overall horror of the event was unmistakable.
Finn's eyes went dark and cold as he watched the massacre unfold. These were people who had lived here, who had laughed and loved and dreamed. And they had been slaughtered, brutally and without remorse.
The images continued to play out, revealing glimpses of the attackers: their armor, their faces, their cruelty. Finn's eyes burned with growing fury, yet his cold, calm, stoic demeanor masked his true emotions in that moment.
as he watched the gruesome scenes unfold. He moved in circles, his gaze scanning every detail of the villagers' brutal demise. And then he saw it. The boy—the one he had found lying face down—was now standing, running from the men in dark armor, with the woman—his mother—behind him. She was the first to fall, struck in the back of the neck with a spear, as the horseman proceeded to chase after the boy. Finn's eyes narrowed, his focus intensifying.
The scene played out in slow motion: the boy running, trying to flee from the horseman behind him, who aimed to thrust the blade he had just unsheathed into the boy's back.
As the scene of the boy played out, Finn's focus snapped to something behind him. He sensed a dark energy approaching. He turned to see for himself and came face to face with something that the eyes could barely see: a huge dark purple fog with a purple barrier behind it, piercing through heaven itself like a tsunami, approaching from the south.
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AUTHOR'S POV
This dark purple fog with a purple barrier behind it is the main plot of the story. It is the fog Finn told Yashimoto about in the previous episode. So you better take notes now. This is where the story begins.
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BACK TO THE STORY
As the darkness continued to approach from the south, Finn immediately felt a wave of weakness wash over him. He fell to one knee, blood trickling from his eyes. He wiped it away with his right hand, coughed uncontrollably, his body shaking with exhaustion. He breathed heavily, holding his head in his palm.
The red barrier covering the village began to glitch, flashing between red and purple, struggling to maintain its original red color. This was due to Finn being weakened by the darkness. Suddenly, the barrier turned a deep, ominous purple, and a blinding flash of light erupted, shattering the barrier and sending the images of the villagers fading away into ash.
But one image remained: the boy Finn had seen earlier, lying face first on the ground, frozen in time as the horseman loomed behind him, ready to strike with his blade.
The image flickered, flashing with increasing intensity, until it exploded in a burst of light, sending Finn flying across the ground.
As the dust settled, Finn struggled to his feet, his eyes scanning the area in confusion.
And then he saw him. The boy—who had been dead a week ago—stood before him, looking just as shocked as Finn felt. The boy's eyes welled up with tears as he stared at Finn, his voice barely above a whisper.
Boy: "W-what happened? … But… how… who are you…?"
Finn stared back, his mouth slightly open, trying to process what had transpired before him. He had lost control over his technique, Hollow Repeat, which he had used to preview the dying moments of the village, and ended up reversing the event of the boy's last moment from a week ago. This was all due to the approaching darkness's atmosphere intercepting the original purpose of Hollow Repeat—a fact Finn eventually figured out himself.
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AUTHOR'S POV
Hope you understand now. The closer the darkness, the weaker Finn Bowing becomes, because his max Reiki continues to shorten, limiting him from getting fancy and flashy with his powers. LOL.
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BACK TO THE STORY
Finn composed himself, his gaze now steady. He started walking cautiously toward the boy and then stopped a few meters away. "Hey, kid. Are you alright?"
The boy ignored Finn's call, not out of ignorance but fear. He himself was still trying to process the scenario before him. His gaze wandered around, his eyes still heavy with tears, taking in the sight of his fellow villagers dead, the smell of blood lingering in the air. Of course, this was no surprise to him—he had witnessed all of this before he was killed himself.
And then he saw it. His gaze slowly went back to the ground behind him. The sight of a broken wooden spear pierced through his mother's neck sent a shiver down his spine. His form momentarily twitched in shock. His eyes finally went to his mother's face. Tears rolled down his cheeks before falling to the ground as he crawled on both knees and bare palms in broken despair toward his mother's corpse.
As the boy approached his mother's corpse, he reached out and grasped her head, his hand shaking slightly. He pressed his own forehead to hers. A silent moment passed. He withdrew, his eyes brimming with tears as he gazed at her face. "Mother, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking with grief.
The boy pulled away from his mother's corpse, his eyes blurry with tears. He struggled to compose himself, his emotions raw and exposed. Finn, however, remained stoic, his expression emotionless as he watched.
The boy's tear-stained face turned to Finn, his voice shaking with rage. "Where are they? ...Where are the men with horses ?" he screamed, his fists clenched at his sides. He took a step forward, his anger palpable, as if fighting to contain a tempest within.
Finn's tone was soothing, his words dripping like gentle rain as he spoke. "Calm down, kid. Take a breath. The men responsible for this… they left a week ago."
The boy's eyes narrowed slightly—not in anger, but in disbelief. His expression twisted in confusion. He cut through Finn's words, his voice laced with skepticism. "No… you're lying, aren't you? You're lying!" He spat the words out, his tone sharp.
The boy's eyes narrowed slightly as he struggled to compose himself, wiping tears from his face with his sleeve, as if attempting to clear his blurred vision. "How am I supposed to believe you?" he asked, his voice strained. "How can I be certain you're not one of them?" His gaze flicked to one of the dead bodies on the ground, and he paused, taking a shaky breath. "You killed them… you're one of them," he accused, his voice trembling.
Finn's demeanor remained unruffled, his tone measured and calm. "You just have to believe me," he said, his voice steady. "Calm down," he added, a hint of firmness underlying his words.
Finn's eyes scanned the surroundings, his gaze lingering on the devastation, before returning to the boy. His voice remained calm, but a hint of disgust crept into his tone as he spoke. "To clarify, I used my ability to gain insight into what happened here. It appears that everything—the death of you and everyone in this village—occurred a week ago. Believe me, everyone was already dead when I arrived. It was… a sickening sight." His eyes narrowed, taking in the environment once more, as if reliving the moment he first saw the carnage.
The boy's gaze dropped to the ground, and he seemed to relax slightly, a hint of surrender in his posture. "I'm sorry… perhaps you're right. If you really wanted to kill me, I probably wouldn't be standing here right now," he said, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. His eyes flicked back to Finn, searching for answers. "And… something feels off. I was about to be killed a moment ago, but everything seemed to change around me. Do you happen to know anything about that?" he asked, his eyes locked onto Finn's, seeking reassurance.
Finn's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression thoughtful. "Hm. Impressive," he thought to himself, his mind racing with the boy's quick analysis and understanding of the situation. Then he said, "I might have something to do with that."
The boy's expression remained skeptical, his voice tinged with confusion. "I don't understand… are you telling me you have something to do with this?"
Finn's countenance remained impassive, his tone measured and composed. "Yes, I'm afraid I am," he replied, his voice steady. "I utilized my ability to gain insight into the events that befell your village a week ago. In the process, I inadvertently reversed the circumstances of your death—or rather, before it—effectively reinstating your life… to this moment."
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AUTHOR'S POV
Hope you are following. Don't get the info twisted, okay? Anyway, it seems Finn is lying about a miscalculation instead of just admitting the darkness obstructed his powers (Hollow Repeat). Will you call this pride, or…?
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BACK TO THE STORY
The boy's eyes narrowed slightly, taken aback by Finn's words. His voice emerged in a hushed tone, laced with a mix of incredulity and desperation. "You… you resurrected me?"
Finn's gaze remained unwavering, his countenance resolute, as he delivered a succinct affirmation. "Yes."
The boy's visage illuminated with a faint spark of hope, yet his grief persisted, casting a poignant shadow over his face. His expression oscillated between desperation and longing as he spoke, his words tumbling forth in a fervent plea. "If you… if you resurrected me," he said, his voice accelerating with urgency, "that means you can bring everybody back… you can save the village…"
Finn's eyes shifted sideways for a brief instant, his eyelids closing before flicking open to lock onto the boy's gaze. His countenance remained stoic, unyielding, as he said, "As I said before, kid, reviving you was a miscalculation on my part. I can't simply rewind time to bring people back to life. Even if I could, it would defy the natural order. So, kid, I can't do it."
Finn Bowing (inner thoughts): In my current state of Reiki reserve, that would be an impossible feat for me."
The boy's face crumbled, his eyes welling up with tears as the reality sank in, forcing him to murmur, "A… alright. I understand. Tch… it was hard enough to believe you revived me as it is, but… you are no high elf who could bend the very foundation of time. That's a trait for highly skilled sorcerers or mages skilled with magic… and you being a high elf is out of the question." The boy's words were heavy with emotion.
Finn: "Hm." He raised his eyebrows—not in curiosity, but in slight discomfort.
Boy: (his gaze shifted to the katana sheathed on Finn's waist) "You are just a human swordsman…" He paused to catch his breath, then continued after exhaling. "It's almost like this conversation has been a lie."
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Finn's lips pressed together before turning into a frown. His eyes were stoic, making his expression unreadable. "You are an observant boy, I'll be honest. But you just have to take my words."
Upon hearing this, the boy clenched both fists at his sides.
Boy: "Take your words, huh? … My mom… everyone is gone, and you expect me to believe a total stranger?"
Finn: "Hm. Listen, kid. I accidentally reversed the cause of your death—that's why you are alive. Second, if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be talking right now, would we?"
The boy's emotion softened close to fear as he instinctively took a step backward, possibly to run.
Finn: "But I suppose it's not entirely wrong to question me in such a manner, given the spot you are in."
Boy: (his face went completely stunned by Finn's honest confession; his gaze faltered downward in surrender, his eyes trembling slightly, his tears all dried up) "A… am sorry."
Finn tilted his head to respond to the boy's sudden acceptance of the situation. His voice was calm and even. "Good." He began walking toward the boy's direction.
But in that moment, Finn's eyes widened slightly as he sensed a near-fast-fading life essence. He masked it immediately with his nonchalant expression, saying, "Hey, boy. What's your name?"
Boy: "My… my name?" His face was stunned in surprise at the sudden question—this was the least he had expected. He then gestured to himself, placing his index finger on his chest as if for confirmation.
Finn: "Yes. I asked. Tell me."
Boy: He hesitated, his lips still heavy with emotional weight and something close to fear, before finally speaking. "I am Arthur… Arthur Kurogane."
Finn's eyes momentarily closed. When they flicked open A frown settled on Finn's face as he uttered, "Arthur Kurogane, your life essence is depleting."
The boy's eyes widened, sensing the gravity of Finn's words. "What… what does that mean?"
Finn's gaze remained fixed on the dead fly, his voice low and measured. "It means your life force is weakening—or accelerating, to be precise." He paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly to meet Arthur's gaze.
Finn: "If this continues, you will be dead in sixteen months."
Arthur's breath hitched. His eyes widened. His emotion rose again after being shattered to pieces, his expression now hollow.....
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