The sky above wasn't as dark as the Underworld, but to Arzael, even the morning sunlight felt foreign. After hours of wandering aimlessly from the ruins where he had emerged, he finally found a place to sit — a large boulder on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast forest. There, he paused to reflect.
The system… the voice still echoed clearly in his mind:
> [System Note: "The more you suffer, the stronger you become. Return to the surface, or descend deeper. Hell is your forge."]
Arzael looked down at his hand, still stained black with demon blood.
"Leveling up? Getting stronger through pain? Through killing enemies? Is this... something only I have?"
His hand clenched, trembling — not from exhaustion, but from a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
Once, he was just a cursed child. Shunned. Unwanted. Cast out by the Alzareth Empire for a bloodline they couldn't understand. Thrown into the Underworld — a final gift from the gods who had long since stopped caring.
But now… everything had changed.
> [Status – Level 9]
Name: Arzael
Race: ???
Level: 9
EXP: 52 / 180
HP: 760 / 760
MP: 500 / 500
STR: 34
AGI: 30
VIT: 38
INT: 26
LUK: 7
Active Skills:
Pain Conversion (Lv. 1): Converts pain into attack power.
Shadow Pierce (Lv. 1): A cursed physical strike.
Gatewalk (Lv. 1): Teleport between Layer 1 of the Underworld and the Overworld. Cooldown: 1 hour.
Passive Skill:
Cursed Blood: When HP < 15%, all stats drastically increase for 10 seconds. Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Arzael stood up. Minor wounds on his body were slowly healing, but the claw marks from the demons still burned across his back. That pain… was power.
He began descending into the valley below. His purpose now was clear: find civilization, gather information, and… adapt. But something whispered in his heart: he was no longer part of this world. Not fully.
Three hours passed. Through thick woods and across a shallow stream, he moved silently — until signs of life appeared. A burned-out campfire. Human footprints. The smell of old smoke. Still, he didn't rush. The Overworld had its own kinds of danger.
Then, from the brush, a beast emerged. Dark fur, metallic tusks — a Boarfang, as tall as a man's chest, its breath ragged and dripping with foam.
"A monster? Not a demon… weaker. But still able to kill."
It charged.
Arzael didn't move.
He drew the rusty dagger at his waist — the last physical weapon he had.
"Shadow Pierce."
A lance of cursed energy exploded from his hand, piercing the Boarfang's forehead and nailing it to the ground.
> [You have slain a Boarfang. +10 EXP]
[EXP: 62 / 180]
Arzael stood over the corpse.
"Still gaining EXP... but slow. Too slow."
He kicked the beast's body aside.
"If this is the normal world, then… hell really is the best place to grow."
He clenched his fist.
> [Gatewalk cooldown: Ready to activate]
A bitter smile spread across his face.
"So I really can go back anytime I want. Hell... isn't a prison anymore. It's a training ground."
A few kilometers later, Arzael stood atop a grassy ridge. Smoke curled up from chimneys in the distance — a town, maybe a village. Too far to make out details, but close enough to confirm one thing:
Civilization still existed.
But before heading there… he had to test something.
He drew his dagger — and stabbed himself in the thigh.
A sharp pain shot through his leg. Blood dripped.
A moment later:
> [Pain Conversion active: +12% bonus STR for 10 seconds]
"Pain… is no longer punishment. It's a tool."
Arzael let out a quiet laugh.
He used to fear pain. Used to dread mockery, rejection, solitude.
Now?
"I'll surpass them all. The gods… the Empire… everything in this world."
As the sun dipped low in the sky, he followed a dirt path toward the town of Kareth — a quiet settlement of farmers, carpenters, and lightly armed guards. Ordinary people.
But to Arzael, they were strangers.
They laughed. They lived without systems. Without pressure to become stronger.
And that… was their weakness.
While they slept, he could return to hell. Train. Kill. Level up.
Leave this world behind.
"I don't belong with them. But I'll pretend. For now."
Cloaked in tattered robes and carrying only his wounds and power, Arzael stepped into the village — the only person in the world with a system forged by suffering.
> [Status – Level 9]
Name: Arzael
Race: ???
Level: 9
EXP: 62 / 180
HP: 760 / 760
MP: 500 / 500
STR: 34
AGI: 30
VIT: 38
INT: 26
LUK: 7
Active Skills:
Shadow Pierce (Lv. 1): Cursed strike; effective against light armor.
Gatewalk (Lv. 1): Freely teleport between Overworld and Layer 1 of the Underworld. Cooldown: 1 hour.
Passive Skill:
Cursed Blood: When HP drops below 15%, all stats increase by 100% for 10 seconds. Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Pain Conversion (Lv. 1): Converts pain into attack power (up to +50% STR).