UCPA Chapter 23: The Black Mist Inn

Chapter 23: The Black Mist Inn

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: PlumSauce

 

Sidov walked toward Coraci. The demon’s imposing presence made the human’s legs go weak, and he slumped back onto the edge of the bed. Sidov dropped to one knee and looked up at Coraci.

“Coraci, now it’s my turn to ask questions. It was Mitchel who reported me to you, asking you to expel me, wasn’t it?”

The situation was still unclear, and Coraci hesitated to jump to conclusions about Mitchel. He said, “No, it’s just that I accidentally saw the binding curse on Mitchel…”

“Oh, that,” Sidov smiled indulgently. “After he cast the spell on the Bewildering Monster, I slipped a binding curse on him when he wasn’t paying attention. It means he can’t act on his own without my permission. He was furious, but there was nothing he could do.”

Coraci frowned and stared at him. “You allowed him to cast spells on the Bewildering Monsters, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I allowed it. But I didn’t allow him to secretly give your phone number to the Bewildering Monsters!” Sidov’s wings fluttered slightly as he stood and paced back and forth on the soft carpet. “Mitchel could have approached the Bewildering Monsters with any excuse to cast spells on them, but instead he chose a ‘call for help’. The incubation period for Hellfire is generally about nine days — nine days is enough for those two ladies to dial the number and get your attention. Then he could come to you and complain about how I’m abusing him.”

“Didn’t he think the Bewildering Monsters might not contact us at all?” Coraci said, and he was right — in fact, the Bewildering Monster couple never called that number, believing it was Mitchel’s number.

Sidov laughed. “You know, Mitchel has performed this act for many people in Phosphor. Bewildering Monsters, other mortal-born demons, stone-hearted people, human hunters, and a few creatures I didn’t even pay attention to. He didn’t just say it to the Bewildering Monsters.”

The demon’s expression darkened, as if deeply wounded. “I really hate how he took things into his own hands and disobeyed me. He used to be so obedient. But as he gained more control over Abyssal magic, his attitude worsened. While practicing spells and feeling his power grow, he schemed to break free from me… Truly cunning.”

“Who else is there?” Coraci asked.

“What?”

“Back at Phosphor, you two… who else had Hellfire cast on them?” Coraci almost shouted. He rarely raised his voice, so it sounded a bit breathless.

The two demons had planted magical seeds on the Bewildering Monsters at the club. Since Sidov expressed surprise that Mitchel’s spell had worked, it meant this was Mitchel’s first completed casting of Hellfire. Coraci didn’t believe Mitchel hadn’t tried it again on others in those nine days.

“I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to what else he did,” Sidov said, licking his lips. “These days, I’ve been lost in the pleasure of using magic to discipline Mitchel. I can poke him with invisible things while he mixes drinks until he can’t stand, and I can also control… everything about his lower body.”

Alright… Coraci held his forehead. John’s terrible mental associations from before¹ suddenly didn’t seem far-fetched at all.

“I really wasted my concern on you guys,” Coraci slumped his shoulders and sighed. “You two are made for each other.”

“That’s in the past now,” Sidov sneered. “I wasn’t fully decided before, but now I am.”

“Decided what?”

“If Mitchel wants to leave me…” Sidov said. “Fine. I don’t need him anymore. I’ll go deal with him, then come back to be with you.”

“What?”

The red glow in Sidov’s eyes dimmed as he spoke slowly. “Coraci, I think humans fall into two categories: one, interesting and otherworldly creatures worthy of befriending, and two, wild animals or livestock. In my heart, you’ve always been in the first category. That hasn’t changed.”

The bone-winged demon stood and pointed around the room. “This room is modeled after a standard hotel room. The fridge has food and water — you can use whatever you want. It’s a shame there’s no TV or internet. I respect you too much to bind you, but I don’t recommend you leave this room. You’d probably die anywhere outside. This area is my true home among humans. It’s vast and full of wonders — you should understand what I mean.”

Sidov opened the door to leave, and Coraci saw the darkness beyond — thick and heavy, as if swirling black mist had gathered there.

“Sidov, wait.”

“Hmm? Do you need something?”

“I want to ask if you’ve seen John. Will you tell me?”

“If I said no, would you believe me?” Sidov winked deliberately, trying to dodge the question.

“Alright, so you did capture John too… And another question — how long do you plan to keep John and me here?”

“I’m a gracious host. Vampires are always fun; I’ll make good use of him. And you… you’re my honored guest, and you always will be.”

With that, Sidov shut the door, and the sound of a lock clicking echoed from outside.

After the demon left, Coraci searched the room carefully. The window faced a dead wall. The fridge contained only packaged food — no spices or ingredients that could substitute for spellcasting materials.

“If only Carol were here,” Coraci muttered. Carol was one of the new recruits at the Association, a Witch Blood Descendant man who trained alongside John. Their blood was an all-purpose magical ingredient, able to substitute for almost any common material or tool.

His phone was missing, and the silver powder pen had been confiscated. Coraci rummaged around the room for a long time and found only a metal bar from the closet — barely usable as a weapon. On the desk lay a dull, thick marker pen, and Coraci was grateful it still had ink.

He wrote incantations along the metal bar. It was a Sharp Edge spell, meant to empower the weapon with stronger attack effects.

At the door, he tapped on the wood panel.

“This idiot thinks a normal door can keep me in. How weak do humans look to you?”

Wielding the bar charged with the Sharp Edge spell, Coraci swung a few times. It sounded like a thin blade cutting through the air.

Soon enough, the door gave way, its frame and lock mangled and splintered.

Coraci wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and opened the door. Outside, the black mist rolled like thick sludge, obscuring the shape of the hallway. Most people would have been completely lost in this fog, unable to tell if the space around them was wide or narrow — but Coraci was unaffected.

The black mist appeared transparent to his Eyes of Truth, which not only pierced disguises on living beings but also saw through magical illusions.

This place wasn’t “like” a standard room in a hotel — it was an old hotel, seemingly long abandoned.

As Coraci stepped outside, a sudden dizziness struck him. When he regained focus, he found himself standing in front of the window of the room.

No, this wasn’t the same room he’d just left. Coraci turned and looked around. The room was far more dilapidated, the table and bed thick with dust, untouched by cleaning. In one corner, there was a sizable pile of discarded cardboard boxes and packaging.

He poked at the pile with the metal bar and found mostly boxes for electronics and household items. A lot of them were luxury brand packaging — French-made men’s bags, clothes, and shoes.

“Sidov has never been a hard worker. There’s no way he can buy all this in three years,” Coraci said with a bitter laugh, looking at the junk. “Most of it must be stolen. Smart demon, knowing not to carelessly throw out packaging — avoiding suspicion if someone digs through the trash.”

More important than Sidov’s theft was another discovery: the doors were random. You never knew where you’d end up after stepping through one.

“Hopefully, I can find John…” Coraci opened the door again. This time he safely stepped into a hallway.

The solid black mist parted as he moved forward, creating a clear path. He headed toward the stairs, took a step down, and then vanished again from that spot.

 

John woke up writhing in pain on the ground. It wasn’t because of the fiery arrows — those hadn’t really hurt at the time.

After being pierced by the arrows, John found himself in a completely pitch-black room. Before he could react, someone shoved a nylon bag over his head. His kidnappers beat him relentlessly with belts and whips. He jumped up to fight back but accidentally hit his head and passed out.

The wounds on his body barely hurt anymore — bloodkin healing was incredibly fast. John pulled the bag off his head and looked around. His night vision revealed the room to be an abandoned boiler room. Earlier, his head had struck a pipe, denting it.

He knew who it was — Sidov. After the fire, he hadn’t been so sure, but when he was being beaten just now, he’d heard the voice.

“Hope Coraci doesn’t have to go through this…” John stood uneasily, stretched his limbs, and headed toward the only door in the room, stepping into the darkness.

The black mist was so thick that even John’s bloodkin eyes couldn’t see clearly. Feeling his way forward, he rubbed his fingertips together softly, extending his nails about a knuckle’s length and thickening them into hardened claws.

Prepared for an attack, he took a deep breath and let his normally hidden fangs protrude from his gums.

From the darkness, he heard breathing far away — separated by some kind of barrier. Carefully, he moved closer, feeling along the wall until he found a door handle.

The moment he twisted it, something lurking in the black mist lunged at him. It was at least eight feet tall, with massive claws swinging toward John’s head. John barely dodged and instinctively jabbed his clawed finger into the creature’s throat.

The monster’s assault didn’t stop; it tumbled through the door with John.

Inside, incandescent light illuminated the scene, and John finally saw the monster’s form. It was a low-level demon — a mix between a bear and a bull. John’s fingers pierced the space between its collarbones. The creature raged on, seemingly impervious to pain, struggling to continue attacking.

John twisted his hand hard, tearing through its artery and neck muscles. Black blood sprayed out. Fearing the massive beast might fall on top of him, John pulled his fingers free and pushed the demon out the door.

The low-level demon vanished the moment it hit the floor outside.

John turned around. This was actually a luxury hotel suite.

The suite was covered in dust, with several sets of footprints and drag marks from luggage crossing the floor. Several sets of clothes were tossed about carelessly. The bathtub in the bathroom was smashed, and the TV lay shattered on the ground.

Near the doorway of the inner room, John spotted the boxes that had been dragged in, filled with strange, unidentified objects.

“Oh… my god…” John felt a little dizzy. Among these little things, some he’d only seen on adult websites, and others resembled medieval torture devices.

Further inside, he found something even more horrifying. On the large bed in the inner room grew a plant, its roots having pierced through the mattress. The tree’s crown pressed against the ceiling, and from its branches hung several corpses.

They were in various states of decay — some reduced to bare bones, others had yet to start rotting.

John’s gaze settled on the freshest corpse. The suffering this human had endured looked less like murder and more like a series of tortures.

The demon vented its anger and malice here, as if reenacting the humiliations he had once endured in the underground chambers of the Arcane Covenant.

 

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