Chapter 80: Healing Hands
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: PlumSauce
The Unthreatening Creature Protection Association’s West Bay City branch was responsible for the area of Darling Town, less than an hour’s drive from Coraci’s house.
By the roadside, a sign read, “Welcome to Darling Town,” its design clearly inspired by Silent Hill, making John wonder how the town wanted to present itself.
They were not the only outsiders. Tourists and worshippers alike wandered the streets; many had driven in with their families.
Jožef explained, the High Priest could use divine power to cure insomnia, eliminate allergies, and remove scars. Followers could cultivate crops on lands designated by the High Priest, and the produce would bear various miraculous effects.
They parked in an inconspicuous spot. Jožef normally concealed his form in public. He didn’t want anyone to see him — or notice a “driverless” car pulling into a scrapyard.
It was still daylight. While the sun wouldn’t immediately harm John, exposure would be painful. Coraci told him to stay in the car, wrapped in the blanket, while he and Jožef scouted the town. After all, the High Priest held public blessings and teachings only at night; the townspeople rarely saw him by day.
Before Coraci left, John asked,“Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Coraci replied.
“I thought this was a quiet little town,” John said. “I didn’t expect so many people. There are so many cars parked in the town square and the fields outside town. Advertisements for ‘Celtic Healing Hands’ are everywhere. The inns are full. I mean…is it really safe for you? You have illusions, but they aren’t permanent. They fail from time to time. I’m worried someone might see you.”
Coraci seemed surprised. “I didn’t expect you to remember the illusion’s mechanics. It must be that you understand them well since applying them to the zombie Adele.”
John nodded from inside the blanket, peeking through a slit.
“I usually cast it in the morning,” Coraci said. “It lasts over ten hours, until night. As long as I keep track of the time, it should be fine.”
“And Jožef?” John asked, glancing at the small god outside the car. “Has he seen your true form?”
“It doesn’t matter if he sees it because my body is human.”
John didn’t fully understand, so Coraci elaborated,“Forest Spirits can distinguish the appearance of their own kind, Abyssal beings, undead, and elemental creatures. In their eyes, humans are only male or female. They can’t perceive human facial features, only clothing and hairstyle.”
No one in town could see Jožef except John and Coraci. Otherwise, someone would have already made a huge fuss. Standing in the sunlight, his snow-white arms and legs were exposed beyond his short robe, and his silver hair glinted like crystal, sweeping over the grass, Jožef resembled the forest maiden from The Secret of Kells, though male. No wonder even brief appearances convinced the followers that he was a true god.
Jožef had last appeared publicly not long ago when the High Priest performed magic in the town square, revealing Jožef’s form. Since then, the High Priest had used him as a figurehead to attract followers, establishing the religion known as “Celtic Healing Hands.”
“To hell with this ‘Celtic Healing Hands’,” Jožef complained. “I’m Slavic, not Celtic!”
After leaving the scrapyard, Coraci had intended to check out the High Priest’s residence; last time he passed through town, he didn’t have the chance. Jožef explained that the High Priest didn’t have a fixed dwelling. He either stayed in the “sanctuary” — a warehouse repurposed, though it still looked like a warehouse, filled with crops according to the teachings of Healing Hands — or rotated among the homes of a few devoted followers, lingering among multiple lovers, all drawn to him by his charm, without a single person questioning it.
From a distance, Coraci observed the sanctuary. Volunteer workers were guiding the followers into lines to receive numbered tickets for the evening’s activities.
“Looks like an Abyssal species incubus,” Coraci murmured to Jožef, while sending what he saw to John on his phone. “His popularity isn’t just about looks. It’s a fascination spell. If he casts it periodically, people become utterly enchanted, unconditionally devoted.”
John texted back, He can control that many people?
No, Coraci replied. He doesn’t need to control everyone. Those captivated by him will enthusiastically spread the word. Plus, Healing Hands, with Jožef’s blessing, can actually perform some miraculous things. Word spreads quickly, and more and more people believe in them.
I see. So how do you know he’s an Abyssal species?
Among demons, incubi are relatively weak. Mortal-born incubi are weaker still. They aren’t skilled in magic, or even in disguising themselves with illusions — usually, they’re just crude rapists. Abyssal incubi are different. They’re cunning, and many know some bloodline magic.
John, still wrapped in the blackout blanket, typed on his phone. I’m curious — if this religious leader met Lathander, who would win?
Coraci replied, I can’t imagine it. But if it were a mountain road motorcycle race, Lathander would win.
Jožef glanced back at him. “You two…are really that clingy?”
“Clingy?” Coraci pocketed his phone.
“Splitting up just a few minutes ago, and you’re already texting nonstop. Even newlyweds know to give each other private time.”
Coraci shook his head with a smile and approached the repurposed warehouse sanctuary, pretending to be an out-of-town follower to collect a ticket.
He tried to converse with the staff. The person in charge of distributing tickets was a plump, middle-aged woman. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, and she was flushed with excitement and gratitude toward Healing Hands.
She explained the nature and rules of the evening gathering, even recommending a comfortable inn in town. Not only that, she then brought out a large tray of freshly cut fruit, each piece skewered with a small stick. She invited Coraci to try it, claiming a single bite could refresh both body and mind.
Jožef stood at Coraci’s side, invisible to ordinary eyes, secretly indicating which pieces were safe to eat and which had been tampered with — apparently using something akin to a stimulant.
Two men, one older, one younger, walked over and lingered near Coraci. As they listened to the woman chatting endlessly, they occasionally whispered to each other.
Coraci noted to himself: these two were poorly disguised. Their attitude was perfunctory, and their questions differed from typical followers. They were either religious observers or exorcists or hunters from elsewhere, drawn here by their suspicion of Healing Hands.
He was about to signal Jožef when he turned and noticed the small god was gone. Scanning the area, Coraci finally spotted him several meters away hiding in a tree, his silver hair blending with the sunlight filtering through the leaves.
A voice suddenly came from behind. “So…enjoying the taste of the fruit?”
Low, magnetic, with an archaic accent, the tone was soft, almost flirtatious. Coraci and the other two men turned simultaneously to see a man in a simple, white cotton robe smiling at them.
Coraci could see his true form — this was the so-called High Priest, an Abyssal incubus. The robe resembled a clergyman’s vestment, but it was sheer enough to reveal strong, smooth muscle lines beneath.
To ordinary eyes, he appeared as a man with light brown, medium-length hair, deep blue eyes, and in his thirties. Through Coraci’s Eyes of Truth, however, he had gray skin, a crimson tongue twice as long as a human’s, an extra knuckle on each finger, and partially regressed short horns on his forehead.
Worst of all — he had a tail. Many demons had tails, but his tail ended in two forked tips, a few inches long, gradating from gray to red and writhing like tongues.
Coraci silently thanked the gods. At least every time he saw him, he wore proper fabric clothing, so he didn’t have to look at his lower half…
The incubus religious leader was called McDonald — that’s what his followers called him. Coraci thought the name sounded like “McDonald’s.”
There was no doubt that McDonald was extremely charismatic. His gaze drew people in, making believers worship him even more and causing outsiders to pay extra attention. All of this stemmed from his Abyssal incubus bloodline; they were naturally the type of beings who inexplicably attracted others.
When he smiled at the staff of his sect, they displayed expressions of “seeing a hamburger patty grilled to medium with melted cheese on top,” filled with joy and anticipation. When he looked at strangers with earnest warmth, they would find themselves uncontrollably glancing back at him, shy and awkward.
Coraci’s own gaze mirrored this. He kept his eyes on McDonald, trying to judge the incubus’s generation by the length of his horns, and estimating the strength of his magic by the stability of his illusions… But to McDonald, this appraisal was interpreted differently since he was accustomed to being admired.
McDonald politely greeted the strangers, embracing them in turn. The two men, said to be father and son, were both surnamed Peter and supposedly came to heal the father’s stubborn ailment. The woman distributing tickets told Coraci,”This is too shortsighted. To achieve unity and harmony with Healing Hands, one must approach it with pure faith…”
Coraci didn’t pay close attention to the rest of her words. Observing the Peter pair, he sighed in resignation: they were pretending far too badly. They didn’t even look related, their accents didn’t match, and only their age difference suggested a father-son relationship.
Now he was certain. They were not government personnel, but hunters. The younger one looked far too nervous, and they were both clearly inexperienced and unskilled in concealing their identities. Moreover, their questions always focused on whether there were truly supernatural phenomena here — something ordinary followers or public officials wouldn’t care about.
Coraci also sensed that McDonald noticed this. The incubus’s gaze on the Peters was different from how he looked at other followers or tourists. Having deceived human society for years, McDonald was clever; detecting clumsy lies was easy for him.
Worried, Coraci walked away, pretending to continue sightseeing. He needed to locate the hidden little god Jožef and to relay what he had seen to John.
He wandered the town for some time, searching in secluded spots, before finally finding Jožef.
The silver-haired god was in a tiny clothing shop, looking at a full-length mirror and lifting his robe to examine his thighs. He was already barely clothed (the white short robe was almost just a piece of cloth), and now his posture was practically like an exhibitionist.
Coraci entered, giving him a “what are you doing?” look.
Jožef looked back. “It’s fine, no one can see me here,” he said, touching a slightly reddened area on his leg. “Thanks again for removing the mark. But why is it still so red?”
People couldn’t hear Jožef speak, so whenever Coraci answered him, it looked like he was talking to himself. He quickly came up with a good cover: pretending to take a phone call.
“Oh, I see,” he said, holding the phone to his ear, casually glancing at the surrounding hats and souvenir necklaces. “It’s like laser mole removal; the skin temporarily shows marks, but it fades. You know what laser mole removal is, right?”
“I do, I’ve seen it in magazines,” Jožef lowered his robe. “As long as it’s normal, I’m fine.”
He adjusted his robe and began complaining about the cult in Darling Town. They left the small shop, and Coraci walked with him along an unfrequented road, telling him what he had observed.
Because the incubus could see Jožef, he had fled earlier upon sensing the demon’s aura. Listening to Coraci’s description, he said angrily, “You saw it too, right? He doesn’t just swindle money and trust — he hypnotizes followers to engage in disgusting sexual acts with him…”
Coraci thought for a moment. “I don’t quite understand. McDonald’s body is so… peculiar. When he spends the night with humans, does he just behave ‘normally’ in human terms?”
“You’re being too subtle,” Jožef raised an eyebrow. “I get it — you mean, ‘If they saw his perverted tail, terrifying tongue, and grotesque genitals, how could humans continue normally?’ And yes, McDonald definitely uses those parts, because he’s an incubus.”
“Right…that’s what I mean. My initial guess is he can hypnotize followers afterward, so they don’t remember the extreme behaviors and continue to obey him.”
“Mm, it’s possible.” The little god frowned. “But I feel like if someone experiences a male incubus’s ‘thing’, even if McDonald can hypnotize them afterward, next time they see him naked, they’d be shocked again.”
Coraci looked at him with a complex expression. “You…have seen McDonald’s naked body?”
“I’ve seen it, yes,” the little god replied seriously. “You know, once I passed by a religious ceremony, and unexpectedly he cast a spell in the town square, causing me to appear in front of humans.”
“I know that, you’ve told me before.”
“At that time he was completely naked, because he said that for the ritual connecting with me…everyone needed to be naked.”
Coraci rubbed his brow. “Why? Was he trying to see who had the best body?”
“You got it — you really understand demons.”
Of course I understand demons. I’ve dealt with several incubi and succubi, and even worked alongside demons… Coraci had thought the bone-winged demon Sidov was already creepy enough, but it seemed incubi were indeed worse than ordinary demons.
He and Jožef left that street, heading to the scrapyard to discuss the next steps with John. From the side of the intersection, someone peeked over a flat-roofed building’s railing, watching Coraci and Jožef’s departing backs.
The Abyssal incubus McDonald hid on the rooftop, bare-chested, his head and body glistening with tequila. The scent effectively masked the aura of Abyssal beings, making it hard for the Forest Spirit to detect him.
McDonald smirked, his gaze moving from Coraci’s back to Jožef’s silver-haired, bare legs… he noticed the complex marks he had seen before were gone, signaling that the Forest Spirit was about to leave the town.
“So this one is a hunter too. One after another — how many hunters are coming for me?” he complained, spreading a pair of vivid purple bat wings and leaving from behind the building.
Author’s Note:
This time it seems… upright but also kind of terrible… yet still really upright… Sometimes I feel a bit sorry for John having to wrap himself up all day and stay inside, haha…
I really like Silent Hill (the movie; haven’t played the game myself) and The Secret of Kells XD
Saying Jožef resembles the girl from The Secret of Kells refers to Aisling… (though he’s much older than her).
https://thesecretofkells.fandom.com/wiki/Aisling
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