The world shifts harshly and the ground beneath my feet sways, catching me just before I can tumble ass-over-kettle. As soon as I’m able to stand upright again, the smell of ash and cinders hits me like a truck.

Squinting, I take a look around me. This place… has probably seen better days.

It seems to me that just a few days ago—no, hours, this place was a small village. Like, really small. I can count a maximum of a dozen used-to-be houses, now little more than charred and smoking foundations. Still, the placement of this village is weird. Take this with a grain of salt, but I’m pretty certain that we’re on top of a mountain? The view is not shy, and with the sun going down over the horizon, it’s a beautiful sight, only sullied a little by the fact that I’m standing in the remains of what was once a mountain village.

However, the devastation isn’t actually the most interesting thing to be found. No, I would say that the several dozen kowtowing, goblin-shaped mounds of ash and embers take that cake. Even stranger is the fact that they aren’t just placed nilly-willy, no, they’re all lined up on the large road I’m standing on, facing an empty throne further down.

That’s… a bit odd, I’d say.

<[As per the Goddess of Children’s request,]>

Hell Difficulty Twentieth Floor:

The Sorcerer.>

<[Clear Condition]

Reach the misguided apprentice

before it’s too late.>

Quite the dramatic way of putting it. And I did agree to do this, so…

…However, I feel that there’s something that needs to be said in regards to that ‘reward’ I got.

[Innocent Adoration]? What? What the heck is this supposed to do for me? Better yet, why in the world would you give me of all people a skill that makes children like me? Have you not been keeping track of what I’ve been doing!?

I suppose rational thinking is too much to ask from these supposedly divine beings.

Ignoring the child-summoner deluxe 5000 skill, what do we have here?

Sticking my nose in the air, I take a deep breath.

…Grape.

I turn back towards the empty throne. Yeah, the smell is coming from down the road. From what I can tell, the road actually continues for a while, heading into and up the mountain. And up there, just a bit ahead, I can smell my target. Alongside what I think is a pretty fair amount of blood, and… three, four corpses, I think? Fresh ones. Very recent.

Alright then. No need to dilly-dally, I suppose. I’m not actually in much of a hurry, so I could just take it easy, but the clear requirement pretty clearly states that this is a time-limited situation. Combined with the fact that my skills improve more when I’m running, I quickly go down on all four and set out, weaving between the kowtowing mounds of goblin-shaped ash and past the empty throne of gravel and dirt, down the road and up the mountain. After some time the road transforms into steps, which I scale on all fours with an intense amount of nostalgia. I wonder why I ever stopped climbing stairs on all fours? This is clearly superior!

As I keep running, I eventually notice a strange ringing coming from the distance, like the pealing of church bells, dinging and donging constantly without pause. The closer I get to my goal, the louder it becomes.

Running without hurry but with interest, I soon reach the end of the road.

I’m not sure whether to describe the building half-attached to the mountain face as a wizard’s tower or as a church. It looks very similar to both, in terms of both height and general shape. The whole thing is mainly made with what seems to be stone, the roof formed out of what appears to be ornately shaped and carved clay. It’s an interesting building. Shame it’s on fire.

Yes, for as lovingly intriguing this building is, it is currently being eaten by hungry purple flames. How can fire burn something as inorganic as rock and clay? No idea! Must be magic fire. The color certainly suggests as much.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

And right there, by the flaming entrance to said standing pyre, are those dead bodies I’d been smelling, suspiciously uncharred. However, despite being spared from the flames, they are even more mauled than the kowtowing corpses down in the village. Their chests are ripped open, faces twisted in horror and despair, the whole nine yards. From what I can tell, there are two goblings, maybe ten years old each, and an older goblin, middle-aged at the very youngest.

Kneeling over them like a grieving widow is the one I’m probably supposed to ‘save.’

It’s small, hardly bigger than the little bodies in front of it. With it wearing oversized robes fit for an adult, it looks even smaller than it really is. It’s just a kid.

However, the positioning of the little thing is… weird. See, I know it’s kneeling, and its arms are grasping at the dead bodies, but its body isn’t actually turned towards the dead bodies. No, in actuality, it appears more that the body itself is facing one way, with the head facing another.

Only once it notices me do I fully understand what I’m looking at.

It flinches, jerks back and forth, and then it stands up, wobbling, its feet hidden by the vast length of the ornate robes it’s wearing. Unsure of its own movement, it staggers back and forth, turning itself around to make its back face me. And there, I finally see its face. In movies, you sometimes see characters getting their necks snapped and broken, leaving their heads owlishly facing the wrong way. That’s what I’m looking at here. The neck is twisted and elongated, slung around and over the shoulders, leaving the head to dangle down the back like the tail end of a scarf. The child’s face is upside down as it stares at me, one eye glazed over with purple, the other wide and trembling and crying, its tears streaming down its forehead.

Hell Difficulty Twentieth Floor

Boss Stage>

<[Clear Condition]

Put the misguided apprentice

out of his misery.>

…This is it? Level four? Seriously?

On the other hand, the last herald I fought didn’t have any level at all, so I can’t judge it on level alone. More importantly, this one doesn’t seem to have been completely flooded quite yet. It looks—dare I say it—half-baked at best. There’s something about the way it staggers towards me that feels childish, not at all like how the last herald moved. Nothing is regal about this little guy.

“M—mister, please,” a hoarse, childish voice tumbles out from its upside-down lips. Its arms stretch towards me, one normal while the other’s skin is cracked, long veins of purple webbing across its palm and fingers. One step closer, and then another. Tentatively, I match its pace, walking backwards as it comes closer. “Please, help Master and my brothers, they—they aren’t moving anymore…”

Is this a trick of some sort? Is the god of kings trying to pull a bit or something to catch me off-guard?

…No, he’s too proud for that. This is something else.

The apprentice wipes at his eyes, not that it helps much. Hiccuping, he pauses a pace or two away. I stop as well. “P—please…” he says, voice trembling as badly as his form. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore. The man with the crown said if I shook his hand I could become just as good as Master at magic, but now Master isn’t moving, and everything hurts, and—”

He points one cracked hand at me, and I burst into flames.

Everything goes BLACK as the fire eats my eyes, every nerve in my body screaming out in pain before being snuffed out by the flames, replaced by a cold nothingness—just like how it felt last floor when I accidentally stepped foot in a patch of magma. This fire is eating me a bit quicker than the normal one, but I can still think and I’ve got pretty good muscle movement, so for a couple of moments I remain standing, trying to ascertain the actual strength of this flame. And after a few seconds…

Burn Protection Lv.9>

Neato!

With that, I drop to the floor and start rolling back and forth, only stopping once I can no longer feel myself actively losing what little mass I have. While standing up, I carefully remove the charred things inside my eyeholes, activating moving meditation to ensure my eyes return quickly. My nasal cavities are still in good shape, so I can tell that the apprentice hasn’t moved an inch since he set me on fire, but I’d still like to have eyes.

Moving Meditation Lv.10>

Feeding Healing Lv.MAX>

…Hm? What’s this?

While my eyes are still recovering, focusing a part of my attention on the non-movement of the apprentice, I pull up the explanation of whatever skill this is.

<[Feeding Healing Lv.MAX]

Through the consumption of

organic matter, the body may be healed

to the same mass as what was consumed.

Healing may be focused to any specific

part or spread across the whole body.>

…Huh. So, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying…

I take a bite of my arm, burnt and charred skin going crunch-crunch-crunch between my molars, and with a chew and a swallow…

After only a few seconds, my vision is back. I only got enough to heal one eye, but this is still insanely overpowered. To be completely clear, with this skill, if I get a broken arm, I could literally heal it by eating it and regrowing the entire thing in a matter of minutes. Well, eating an entire arm might take a little longer, but still!

This is… really powerful.

With my eye healed, I look back at the apprentice. He’s standing in the same place as before, clutching his arm to what’s technically his back. More interestingly though, despite the fact that I no longer have skin and just committed an act of auto-cannibalism, he doesn’t look afraid in the least. He looks scared, sure, but when he looks at me, there’s an impression of clarity in his eyes, no confusion whatsoever.

Is he stupid or something? Doesn’t he know what I’m going to do to him?

I step closer to him, eye set on his face. Soon, I’m close enough to touch him, or to maul him, or to dissect and eat him alive. But he still has that look on his face. A weird, strange look that I think I’ve only really seen on Moleman.

It doesn’t leave his face even when my claws grab a hold of his head and pull him off the ground, feet dangling, neck making crunchy noises. Grabbing a proper hold of his head, I twist it around until it’s the right way up. But he’s still giving me that weird look. Not to mention that he hasn’t moved even a little since I picked it up.

Squinting at him, I finally say, “You’re awfully okay with what I’m doing to you.”

He blinks at me, tears in one eye, purple goop in the other. But the look in his clear eye doesn’t shift. “For some reason, it just… I can tell you’re here to help, mister, so…” A smile. A knowing, trusting, loving smile. “Please. Help me.”