In a world layered by three planes of existence — the Heavens of the gods, the Overworld where mortal beings live, and the deep, dark Underworld — a child was born, unwanted by anyone. Not because he was evil, but because he was the symbol of sins left behind by the previous generation.
Arzael, son of the last Empress of the Alzareth Empire, was born on the night of a black eclipse. As he drew his first breath, lightning struck three times in a clear sky. His mother let out her final breath in agony, her body torn apart from within — not due to natural childbirth, but because of a curse cast by the gods. They, the dwellers of the Heavens, had laid a curse upon the infant they deemed a threat to the balance of the world: the Curse of Eternal Suffering.
Since childhood, Arzael lived under the shadows of death and hatred. His face was pale, his hair white as if time itself refused to let him grow as a child. His eyes glowed red like embers, making everyone keep their distance. Servants refused to touch him. Imperial tutors declined to teach him. And the people called him "the demon child."
But one person remained by his side — an old servant named Neria. Since the day Arzael was born, Neria had cared for him like her own son. She was the only light in Arzael's bleak life. Yet Neria's love was not enough to heal the wounds that could not be seen.
"I didn't choose to be born like this," said Arzael at the age of ten, when a noble child threw a rock at him.
"You don't deserve to live in this palace!" shouted Vaelric Agareth, his half-brother born from a noble concubine. "You're a living curse! My father said so!"
One day, Vaelric tried to insult Neria in public. Arzael's fury exploded. He punched Vaelric in the face until blood splattered — and from that moment... everything fell apart.
At fifteen years old, Arzael was bound in chains of curse. The Emperor — his own father — ordered his exile.
"A cursed child has no place in this world," said the Emperor, without even looking at him.
"Where... are you sending me?" Arzael asked, voice trembling.
"To where you truly belong — to hell."
In the dead of night, they brought him to the edge of the empire. There stood a cursed black gate — an ancient portal connecting the human world to the Underworld. There were no guards. Only scorched stones and smoking earth.
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 1 achieved. Unique skill awakened.]
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.
---
[Status – Level 8]
Name: Arzael
Level: 8
Race: ???
HP: 720 / 720
MP: 460 / 460
Strength (STR): 31
Agility (AGI): 28
Vitality (VIT): 35
Intelligence (INT): 24
Luck (LUK): 7
Active Skills:
Pain Conversion (Lv. 1): Converts pain into attack power. The greater the injury, the higher the damage.
Shadow Pierce (Lv. 1): A physical strike empowered with cursed energy, capable of penetrating weak enemy defenses.
Passive Skills:
Cursed Blood: When near death,all stats drastically increase for 10 seconds. Cooldown:5 minutes.
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.