the world is divided into three planes of existence:
Heaven, where the gods reside.
The Overworld, where mortals and men dwell.
And the Underworld,a hellish realm, ruthless, and devoid of mercy.
On a moonless night, when the sky was swallowed by a total eclipse, a child was born in the Imperial Palace of Alzareth. The rain didn't fall, but the heavens roared. Thunder cracked three times across a cloudless sky, as if the very sky rejected his arrival.
The child's first cry was not welcomed with joy.
The last Empress of the Alzareth Empire, the most powerful woman in the realm, screamed in agony,not from childbirth, but something far worse. Blood poured not only from her womb, but from her eyes, ears, and every pore of her skin. Her body boiled and burst from within, like flesh cooked alive. No healer could explain it. It was no illness.
It was divine punishment.
The gods of Heaven had cast down the Curse of Eternal Suffering,upon a child who hadn't even opened his eyes.
He was the symbol of mankind's sin, born from a forbidden union between imperial blood and a sealed, profane power. A baby prophesied to bring calamity. From that moment on, his name was recorded in the forbidden tomes:
Arzael.
From an early age, Arzael lived in isolation.
His hair was white as bone, his eyes red like embers that never died. His skin was pale, always cold. Even sunlight seemed reluctant to touch him.
Servants refused to go near. Some cried just from delivering food to his door. Tutors declined to teach him.
"I will not teach a cursed child," they said.
Noble children called him "demon spawn."
Even the palace animals hissed or barked in rage at his presence.
Every birthday passed in silence. No party, no gifts.
Only one person remained by his side,Neria, an old maid who once served the Empress. She loved him like her own. She was the only one who had ever stroked his hair. The only voice that called him gently.
But even Neria's kindness could not heal the wounds no one could see.
"I never asked to be born like this," said ten-year-old Arzael, after a noble boy struck him with a rock.
"You don't belong in this palace!" screamed Vaelric Agareth, his half-brother through a concubine.
"My father says you're a walking curse!"
One day, Vaelric insulted Neria in public,calling the old maid lower than a dog.
Arzael snapped.
He struck Vaelric so hard blood painted the boy's face. It wasn't just a punch. It was years of pain, shame, and quiet humiliation erupting at once.
And from that moment on... everything crumbled.
———
He was only fifteen when the chains of the curse bound his body.
His skin burned as glowing runes flared into the air.
The court mages chanted the exile spell.
He was forced to kneel before the Emperor of Alzareth,his biological father.
But the Emperor never looked at him.
There was no sorrow. No tears.
Only cold, unwavering resolve.
"A cursed child has no place in this world," he said flatly.
"W-Where… are you sending me?" Arzael asked, his voice cracking.
"To the place that should've been your home all along… to hell."
There was no trial. No chance to plead.
In the dead of night, they transported him in secret.
Dragged by four guards who wouldn't even touch his skin bare-handed.
They brought him to the edge of the empire,to the Black Gate, an ancient portal linking the world to the Underworld.
The ground around it smoldered.
Obsidian stones cracked under searing heat.
There was no ceremony. No farewell.
Only the night wind cutting like blades.
Neria arrived,her old body trembling, her breath shallow.
She knelt and begged the Emperor.
"He's not a monster… he's just a lonely child…"
But the only response was a silent gesture.
The guards shoved Arzael into the gaping abyss.
And he fell.
No ceremony. No goodbyes. Arzael was thrown into the portal.
....
...
..
.
When he woke up, he was in an unknown place, a crimson sky, searing air stabbing into his lungs, and the screams of foreign creatures echoing in the distance.
Underworld, First Layer.
His body was full of wounds, his bones shattered, but he was still alive. He dragged his body toward the nearest cliff for shelter. There, he heard the first voice of the 'system.'
> [Curse System Activated...] [Analyzing trauma and suffering...] [Synchronization complete. Initiating Initial Level...] [Level 7 achieved. Unique skill awakened.]
"Sistem?....W-what is this?" He says.
Arzael stared blankly into the air, seeing a panel only he could see. Then, he let out a faint laugh.
"So this... is the price of all my suffering?"
> [You have acquired Skill: Pain Conversion (Lv.1)]
A demon approached, its body as large as a horse, eyes glowing green, and claws tearing through the ground.
Arzael couldn't run. But this time, he didn't want to.
With a scream, he fought, and killed for the first time.
> [You have slain a Lesser Demon. +120 EXP] [Level Up!]
Blood and pain. They were his fuel. And in hell, the supply was endless.
System Note:
"The more you suffer,the stronger you become. Return to the surface, or descend deeper. Hell is your forge".
"Not bad huh?" Arzael smirk and continue his journey in the first layer of hell.
...
..
.
A few minutes later.
"Hhh... Hahh..."
Arzael panted, his body covered in wounds and blood, some of it his, some not. The ground of the First Layer of Hell trembled beneath the steps of feral beasts lurking in the darkness. The air burned his lungs, reeking of sulfur, while distant screams echoed like an unending nightmare.
> [System: Pain detected – Minor lacerations. Pain Conversion bonus active: +12% damage]
"So... this is hell?" Arzael murmured, eyes fixed on the starless black sky.
"No mercy here, huh? Fitting…"
He moved through winding caves, avoiding the larger monsters, hunting the small ones. A young Hell Hound lunged at him, he blocked it with a rock and drove Shadow Pierce into the creature's skull.
> [You have slain a Feral Hell Hound. +64 EXP]
[Shadow Pierce proficiency increased.]
His body was still trembling.
But within the blood and pain... there was peace.
Internal monologue:
"Every wound... makes me stronger," Arzael thought. "They threw me here to die. But they gave me something they never realized, a chance."
In the midst of his exploration, Arzael encountered a Crimson Wailer, a humanoid demon with wings and a twisted, skeletal frame. One strike from it nearly halved his HP.
> [Warning: HP below 50%]
[Passive Skill: Cursed Blood – activated. All stats temporarily increased]
With that brief surge of power, Arzael slashed and stabbed... but his victory came within a breath of death.
> [You have slain a Crimson Wailer. +132 EXP]
[Level Up!]
[New Active Skill unlocked: Gatewalk]
> [Gatewalk (Lv. 1) – Active Skill]
Allows instant teleportation between Overworld and Underworld (Layer 1 only). Cooldown: 1 hour.
Arzael let out a faint laugh, blood trickling from his lips.
"Now… I can go back."
He stood atop a jagged cliff, blood still dripping from open wounds. Below him, a black gate rose from the earth, the Cursed Imperial Gate, the very place he was once thrown into.
He stepped into the black light.
> [Gatewalk activated. Destination: Overworld]
The light swallowed him whole.
Arzael emerged within a ruined temple, far from the Alzareth Empire. His crimson eyes gazed across the horizon, not with weakness, but with cold hatred and a new purpose.
"You threw me into hell…
Now I've returned to burn it down."
[Updated Status – Level 9]
Name: Arzael
Race: ???
Level: 9
HP: 760 / 760
MP: 500 / 500
Stats:
Strength (STR): 34
Agility (AGI): 30
Vitality (VIT): 38
Intelligence (INT): 26
Luck (LUK): 7
Active Skills:
Shadow Pierce (Lv. 1)
Gatewalk (Lv. 1):
Freely teleport between Overworld and Underworld (Layer 1). Cooldown: 1 hour.
Passive Skills:
Cursed Blood: When near death, all stats drastically increase for 10 seconds. Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Pain Conversion (Lv. 1): Converts pain into attack power (up to +50% STR).