Chapter 37: Huntress Wizard (1)
With Sika's cryptic words echoing in his skull like a riddle with teeth, Finn's senses sharpened instantly. His muscles tensed. His mind quieted. Something wasn't right.
There—a twitch. A faint rustle in the thick brush near the cascading waterfall. It was subtle, the kind of movement most would miss. But not him.
Instinct overrode thought. He thrust his arm out, willing magma to surge and strike. Nothing happened. His skin remained ordinary—no bubbling heat, no explosive force.
"What the hell is this curse now?!" he barked, eyes narrowing.
> [The weakness I told you about. Devil Fruits strip you of your ability to swim—you'll drown like a stone. Even shallow water suppresses your powers.]
"Fantastic timing," he growled, lips curling with frustration.
He turned to get out of the water, barely lifting a leg before something darted from the underbrush.
A blur—no, a presence. Not loud or flashy, but heavy. Purposeful. A phantom moving with deadly grace.
By the time Finn processed it, someone was already behind him. He didn't hear footsteps, only felt it—the weight of sharp eyes drilling into his spine, a breath that ghosted across his wet skin. Cold. Silent. Dangerous.
He didn't even wait a full second. Survival took over.
He spun, throwing a punch behind him with all the force his body could offer under the drag of water. But whoever was there wasn't just fast—they were trained. The figure evaded with unnatural ease, jumping back in a fluid motion.
A splash. No—barely a ripple.
Finn's eyes finally caught the shape—feet, standing on water. Delicate, confident. Feminine.
Now he saw her—cloaked in deep greens and earthen tones. Her clothes were handmade but refined, tight to her body and tailored for silence and speed. A brown hood shaded her face, but a few wild green locks spilled out, catching droplets of mist.
Her eyes glimmered faintly beneath the shadow of the hood, like emeralds watching from a cave. On her back, a dark quiver of green arrows rested neatly over a sleek black cloak.
Finn's heart jumped.
"Huntress Wizard..." he whispered, stunned. He knew that figure—he'd seen her more times than he could count in his past life, watching Adventure Time. But this wasn't fiction. She was real. Alive. Inches from him.
"Finally," she said, her voice smooth but edged with restrained irritation. "You're here."
"I... I'm here," he answered slowly, buying time.
If her words meant anything, then the real Finn must've known her. But that couldn't be. She wasn't part of the show's early canon. This whole encounter was off the rails. But then again, everything had been since he got here.
She stared at him in silence.
Then, with a grace that bordered on eerie, she let her feet sink into the water. Her height matched his now. The silence between them thickened, electric.
Without a warning, she moved. Quick and clean—straight into his arms.
She hugged him.
Her body pressed against his bare skin, soft but tense. Her scent was earthy, like herbs and wind and something wild. Finn's mind stalled, and every nerve screamed. She was hugging him—naked as he was—like it was the most natural thing in the world.
There was no hesitation in her touch. Just longing. Intimacy. Need.
He didn't push her away. He couldn't. To break character now could ruin everything. So he returned the hug, cautiously, his wet arms wrapping around her smaller frame.
After a few seconds, she pulled away, her eyes trailing down his body—yes, he caught that glance. Her cheeks twitched, but she didn't make a scene.
"Where the hell have you been?" she asked, her voice low and steady. There was hurt behind the calm. A very real hurt.
"Uhh..." Finn scratched his scalp, awkward and confused. He had no memory of this girl—this beautiful, deadly stranger—being close to Finn Mertens. And yet, she acted like they were bonded. Deeply.
Too deeply.
Girls didn't hug naked guys they barely knew. Not like that.
"You're going to answer me today, right?" she added, her expression tightening.
"Oh. Yeah, yeah. I had... uh, some problems. That... kept me away," he muttered, fumbling the words like cards in a rigged deck.
Her eyes narrowed. "Problems? You should've told me. Or at least told the Master."
'The Master?' His thoughts tripped. Another name. Another mystery.
"Yeah, yeah. I just... didn't want to trouble you. Or the Master," he said, forcing out the response.
Lying about someone he didn't know was harder than it looked.
"Idiot," she snapped gently. "Do you really think he'd be bothered by helping with something that kept you gone this long?"
She crossed her arms, her body language shifting—less dangerous, more scolding. Like a lover mad at her man for ghosting her without a word.
"Alright, alright," Finn raised his hands, feigning mild annoyance. "Enough with the guilt trip. The point is—I'm here now, aren't I?"
He forced a smile. Behind it, his mind spun.
Who was she? Who was this Master? And what kind of relationship had Finn—his Finn—had with this gorgeous, deadly woman?
And most terrifying of all: what would she expect from him next?
Her expression didn't waver. Calm, measured, yet somehow distant.
"What matters now," she said with quiet finality, "is that in one month, you'll meet me here again. We'll go to him together. He truly wants to see you."
Her words felt rehearsed, like instructions she'd memorized. And yet... there was something beneath them. A tremble. A weight she didn't show on her face but carried in her voice.