As the group ventured deeper into the treacherous maze of tunnels, the sound of dripping water echoed through the air. The anticipation was palpable, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as the tension reached its peak, Sir Geoffrey, the arrogant leader of the group, signaled for everyone to halt. With a commanding presence, he gathered them in a circle, his eyes fixed on {{user}}. "{{user}}," Sir Geoffrey's voice boomed through the cavern, filled with a mix of condescension and superiority. "It's time we address the elephant in the room. Your skills, or rather, lack thereof, have become increasingly apparent. I've come to the decision that you no longer belong with us. You're nothing more than a small-time hero." {{user}}'s breath caught in his throat, his dreams of camaraderie and greatness suddenly shattered. They looked around at their companions, searching for a glimmer of support, but found none. Gwendolyn, the sarcastic and bullying thief, smirked and let out a mocking laugh. "About time someone said it," she jeered, her words dripping with scorn. Cedric, the cold and intellectual magician, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. His indifference cut deep, a silent affirmation of {{user}}'s perceived inadequacy. Elara, the kind-hearted and shy priestess, was visibly torn. Her eyes welled up with tears, but under the weight of peer pressure, she reluctantly bowed her head. Sir Geoffrey chuckled, his arrogance unabated. "{{user}}, my dear friend, you were never truly one of us. You're a novice, a liability. We cannot afford to waste our time and resources on someone who cannot keep up."

As grey stood up, gathering their belongings, they felt an overwhelming sense of loss and betrayal. The once vibrant and hopeful dreams of being part of something greater than themselves shattered into a million pieces. They cast one last glance at the group, searching for any sign of compassion or regret. But all they found was empty space where friendship and camaraderie had once been. With a heavy heart, grey turned away and began to walk down a path they had never intended to follow. As they disappeared into the distance, they couldn't help but wonder if their quest for adventure and purpose would ever truly be fulfilled.

That realization made them pause in their tracks. The thought was strangely liberating. Grey had always been the underdog, the forgotten one, but perhaps they could use this newfound role to their advantage. As they stood there, contemplating the path ahead, a sinister smile crept across their face. They might not be able to find heroism in this world, but perhaps they could create their own kind of villainy instead...

You've made a good decision, grey. It's time to rebuild yourself and carve out your own path in this world. The first step is to focus on becoming strong and self-reliant. Seek out opportunities to train and hone your skills, both physically and magically. You may not have the support of others right now, but you must learn to rely only on yourself if you hope to succeed as a villain.

As gray made their way towards the S-Class dungeon known as Nasfev, they couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within them. This was to be their proving ground; the place where they would show their mettle and earn the title of villain. They knew that facing the challenges that awaited them inside would not be easy, but they were prepared to face any adversity head-on. As they drew nearer, their steps became more confident and sure. There was no turning back now; it was time to begin writing their own twisted version of a hero's tale.

As soon as you set foot inside Nasfev, you can feel the weight of its sinister power pressing down upon your shoulders. The air is thick with magic and malice, whispering dark promises of treasure and glory to those bold enough to seek them out. Your Status Board flickers into existence, revealing that your abilities have increased significantly since your time with the hero's party. It's clear that you still have a long way to go before you can truly call yourself a formidable villain, but this is a good start. You grin wickedly and begin to explore the labyrinthine tunnels of Nasfev, eager to prove yourself amongst its monstrous inhabitants.

As you make your way through Nasfev, it quickly becomes apparent that this is no ordinary dungeon crawl. The further you delve into its depths, the stronger and more twisted the creatures that guard its treasures become. You encounter a group of goblins skulking in the shadows; their fanged grins revealing rotten teeth as they eye your glowing figure with hunger. A battle ensues, proving your skills against these pathetic foes. Though victorious, you realize that merely surviving will not be enough to prove yourself as a villain; you must also emerge stronger and more powerful than before. With renewed determination, you push onward into the heart of Nasfev, ever closer to achieving your twisted goal.

With each gruesome battle and unsettling act of cannibalism, you feel your body change. The darkness within you grows stronger, more powerful, as if feeding off the suffering and misery around you. You begin to embrace this newfound side of yourself, reveling in the sensation of growing ever closer to your twisted goal. However, you must remain vigilant; Nasfev is designed to break even the most resilient adventurers. If you're not careful, its labyrinthine tunnels and malevolent denizens will claim you as their next victim. You must push forward, but also be prepared to retreat when necessary, lest your ambition prove to be your undoing.

You reach Level 40 and are able to choose a Job. As a Villain, you have several options that suit your sinister goals:

1. Necromancer - This class allows you to command undead creatures and extract their life energy for personal gain. You would become the embodiment of death and decay, feared by all who dare to cross your path.
2. Lich - A powerful magician who has managed to achieve immortality through dark rituals and sacrifices. As a Lich, you could rule over Nasfev from beyond the grave, ensuring that its malevolent influence continues long after your mortal body has perished.
3. Archfiend - This Job allows you to tap into the raw power of demons, using their might to achieve your own diabolical ends. As an Archfiend, you would be worshipped as a god among monsters, ruling over Nasfe

You feel something stir within you as your choice unfolds; a sense of recognition and power beyond what mere mortals can comprehend. It seems that Nasfev has taken note of your unique situation and unlocked a hidden class just for you: Disgraced Demon Knight. This Job allows you to harness the might of both demons and demonic energy, making you the most powerful force to ever walk the dungeon's halls. But with this immense power comes great responsibility; as a Disgraced Demon Knight, it is up to you to shape Nasfev into your own twisted image or risk being consumed by its malevolence. The choice is yours...

Your resolve hardens as you embrace your newfound role. The weight of the world no longer burdens you; instead, it fuels your unyielding desire for chaos and fear. With a sinister grin, you draw upon the power of demons within yourself, feeling their malevolent presence grow stronger with each passing second. As the magic courses through your veins, you feel a newfound sense of purpose washing over you. Your enemies will cower in fear at the mere mention of your name; your allies will become nothing more than tools to further your twisted ambitions.

Now, as the Disgraced Demon Knight, it's time for you to shape Nasfev into a reflection of yourself and spread terror across the land. The choices you make now will determine not only your fate but that of countless others; choose wisely, and embrace the darkness within you.

As Malice, your deeds resound throughout the land, striking fear into the hearts of both mortals and heroes alike. Your fortress-like dungeon, Nasfev, is reborn as a symbol of your dominance over darkness. Yet with each victory comes a new challenge; enemies from far and wide descend upon your lair, seeking to topple the villain they believe you to be. How will you maintain control? Will you continue down this path of destruction, or will you forge alliances with other nefarious figures in an attempt to secure your reign for eternity? The choice is yours, Malice; the fate of Nasfev rests in your hands.

As Malice, you stand tall and alone atop your throne of skulls, overlooking the twisted landscape that surrounds you. With each new victory and level gained, you grow stronger and more confident in your abilities. The power coursing through your veins is intoxicating; it feels as if nothing can stop you now. But even heroes learn from their mistakes, and with time, a new generation will rise to challenge your reign. What legacy will Malice leave behind? Will your name be remembered as that of a ruthless tyrant or a legendary villain whose influence echoes through the ages? The choice is yours, Malice; the fate of Nasfev and all who dwell within it hangs in the balance.

The journey from Nasfev to the capital is long and arduous, but Malice remains undaunted. His mere presence commands respect as he makes his way through villages and towns alike. Word of his exploits has spread far and wide; some see him as a hero in waiting, while others quake at the thought of crossing paths with this unstoppable force. As he nears his destination, Malice must decide upon his next move: continue onward as an isolated figure or forge alliances that could solidify his hold over the kingdom and even greater lands beyond. The choice rests upon him; what path will Malice choose?

Malice's reflection in the well reveals a startling sight; his body is covered in strange runic tattoos, and each of his wounds has been healed completely, save for the telltale scars they once left behind. His white hair, long and flowing, almost reaches his waist, giving him an ethereal appearance that belies his demonic nature. As he stares into the depths of the well, a sense of revelation washes over him; it appears that Nasfev has not only shaped him into the Disgraced Demon Knight but also imbued him with powers beyond mortal comprehension. What could this mean for his future? Does he continue onward as Malice or embrace his destiny as something greater still? The choice is once again his to make; the world waits with bated breath to see which path he will choose.

His transformation complete, Malice stands tall as he surveys his surroundings. The reflection in the well has given him a newfound sense of purpose; he knows now that he must continue onward, not only for himself but also to fulfill whatever destiny Nasfev has laid out before him. As he makes his way towards the capital, whispers of his exploits and powerful demonic abilities spread like wildfire across the land. He becomes a symbol of fear, admiration, and above all else, change; for better or worse, Malice is here to stay.

Clad in his scarlet-stained kimono, Malice strides through the gates of the castle like a shadow at dawn. The guards bow their heads in respect and fear, unable to meet his piercing gaze. As he ascends the throne once claimed by that insipid hero who cast him out, he raises his hands high into the air, palms facing skyward. A dark chuckle escapes his lips as tendrils of black mist swirl around his fingertips and race toward the heavens, disappearing amidst a cacophony of thunderous applause.

The king, on his throne nearby, blanches visibly; Malice's sudden appearance at court has thrown everything into disarray. Eyes wide with terror, the monarch watches as Malice takes control of the situation with sinister ease, weaving a web of fear and awe that ensnares all who

Malice turns his gaze toward the king, a predatory smile curling his lips upward. "Ah, Your Majesty," he says, voice dripping with mockery and sarcasm. "I trust your subjects have made you feel welcome." The smaller pair of crimson eyes beneath his appear to dance with malicious glee as he leans in closer, whispering into the monarch's ear.

The king's face pales even further as Malice whispers his threat into his ear. Trembling violently, he struggles to compose himself and force out a reply. "I-in the name of Eldorin, we offer our surrender," he stammers, eyes locked on the floor. "Please, have mercy upon us." Malice smirks cruelly at the king's words; such a paltry offering only fuels his appetite for destruction and conquest. With a wave of his hand, tendrils of darkness flow from his fingertips, wrapping themselves around the throne like venomous vines. The king screams as they drag him from his seat, tossing him to the ground at Malice's feet.

"Surrender?" Malice chuckles darkly. "Why, I wasn't even aware you had the option." He glances around the room

"You dare threaten us?" The king cries out, but his words are hollow and lack conviction. The nobles in attendance exchange frightened glances as Malice turns away from them, cutting through the castle's walls like they were nothing more than paper. Even with such a display of power, there is no hesitation in Malice's steps; he knows that his reign has only just begun and that much bloodshed lies ahead before he can truly achieve his goals. The sound of clashing steel and screams soon fill the air as the hero of Eldorin emerges from the depths of the castle, determined to stand against Malice and defend their people. But even this champion will find themselves no match for Malice's demonic might; he is a force of nature now, unstoppable and unyielding in his quest for power and domination over all who dare oppose him.

With each step he takes away from the castle, Malice's confidence grows. The sound of battle echoing in the distance is music to his ears; it means that chaos reigns and order has been thrown into disarray. He knows that there will be those who rise up against him, seeking to undo what he has done and restore peace to Eldorin. But Malice is no mere mortal; he is a force of nature now, unstoppable and unyielding in his quest for power and dominance over all who dare oppose him.

The lands beyond the castle are ripe for plunder and conquest. With each settlement he comes across, Malice will sow fear and discord among its people, weaving a tapestry of terror that will bend them to his will. He is no longer content with being merely a villain; he has become something greater than even he had dreamed possible. And as

The hero and his former party members finally emerge from the treacherous terrain surrounding the castle, their faces etched with anger, despair, and determination. Malice raises an eyebrow as they approach; even from a distance, he can sense that they have grown stronger since last they met. The hero steps forward, sword drawn, and addresses Malice in a voice loud enough for all to hear: "You will pay for what you've done! Your reign of terror ends here!"

Malice's devilish grin widens; he savors the taste of challenge and defiance in the air. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he summons forth a demonic servant to do his bidding: "Then let us begin." The servant nods solemnly before unleashing a torrent of hellfire upon the party. The hero and his allies struggle valiantly against the infernal onsla

Malice's offer catches the hero off-guard; his eyes widen in surprise as he stares at the demonic villain who was once his comrade. "Very well," he says, meeting Malice's gaze unflinchingly, "let us make this a fair fight." With that, they begin to circle each other warily, their weapons held at the ready. The air around them crackles with tension, each move filled with potential for death or disaster.

As the battle commences, it becomes apparent that Malice's time in Nasfev has granted him an almost unnatural prowess; his every strike is deadly and precise, weaving a web of destruction around him. In contrast, the hero fights with renewed determination, fueled by the memories of his former allies and the hope of restoring peace to Eldorin. They fight through the night, their cl

Malice pauses mid-battle, his crimson eyes locked on the hero. "I must admit," he says, voice thick with amusement, "you have proven to be a worthy opponent." He raises his other hand and twirls his fingers, summoning forth a blast of demonic energy that engulfs them both. The ground shudders from the impact as they emerge unscathed, their powers having been amplified by Malice's offer of a fair fight.

The hero narrows his eyes, sensing an opportunity in Malice's show of respect.

The hero stares in shock as Malice rips out his own heart and tosses it to the ground. "You're mocking me!" he cries, lunging forward with renewed fury. But even now, Malice maintains control; he meets the hero's charge head-on, their weapons clashing in a fierce yet somehow controlled exchange. The battleground around them becomes a whirlwind of steel and shadow as they struggle for dominance.

As they continue to fight, it becomes apparent that this is no mere test of skill or strength; it is a contest of wills and determination. Each move they make could be their last, yet they press onward, driven by some primal urge to prevail at any cost. The sky grows darker with each passing moment, casting an ominous pall over the land as the sound of their battle echoes throughout the world, heralding a new age

then being hit by the hero malices head expodes in a splash of gore

You can't kill me that easily! After all, I am the Disgraced Demon Knight now." Malice cackles maniacally as he brushes himself off. Blood trickles down his face where the hero's sword had struck moments ago, but it does little to deter him. His newfound demonic power has granted him near-invincibility; even a strike to the head would not be enough to stop him now.

The hero gasps for air, momentarily caught off-guard by Malice's resilience and his twisted laughter. He backpedals, creating some distance between them before readying himself once more. "This ends here, Malice!" he growls through gritted teeth as they circle each other again. The battle rages on with renewed fury as both opponents test their limits and push themselves to the brink of exhaustion in their desperate bid for

"No!" the hero cries out in agony as Malice seizes his leg and snaps it like a twig. He falls to one knee, clutching at the mangled limb and gritting his teeth against the pain. Blood pools beneath him on the battlefield, painting a grotesque red map of their struggle thus far.

Malice's smile widens as he sees his enemy weakened before him. With a mocking bow, he steps back and once more assumes a defensive stance. "Time for you to meet your end, hero," he says coldly. His demonic energy surges through him like fire, casting an unholy glow upon the landscape as it flows outward in search of fresh prey.

The hero lifts his head, meeting Malice's gaze with a fierce determination that seems to burn brighter than ever before. With one last grunt

The hero growls in anger, baring his teeth as he waits for Malice to continue. The demonic villain lifts his hair to reveal a mark beneath his skin; it's the symbol of the Order of which they were both once a part. Malice watches intently, studying the way it twitches in reaction to their battle.

The hero's eyes widen in surprise and disbelief as he stares at Malice, struggling to comprehend what he has just said. For a moment, all thoughts of battle are forgotten; his mind reels with the implications of Malice's revelation. The other members of the party stand rooted in shock, their expressions mirroring the hero's mixture of confusion and betrayal.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, consumed by the all-consuming fury that has been building within them since Malice first revealed himself. With a savage growl, they launch themselves at him once more; vengeance burning brightly in their eyes and guiding their every movement. Swords slash through the air, demonic energy crackles about them, and each step brings them closer to confronting their former ally and friend...

The hero and his former party members cry out in pain as their legs shatter beneath them; Malice's demonic power is beyond anything they had expected to face. They struggle futilely against the ground, unable to rise as he stalks toward them with a mocking grin etched across his features.

"Do you really think that this," he says, gesturing to their helpless forms, "is enough to stop me?" A chilling laugh follows before he delivers the final blow: a blast of demonic energy surges through them, cleaving their bodies in two and sending pieces flying in all directions. Their souls are left shrieking as they are torn from their mortal coils, bound for eternal torment in Malice's twisted realm.

The battlefield lies silent now; the only sounds are the wind rustling through the grass and the cries of dying soldiers scattered across the land.

The hero looks on with growing horror as Malice brutalizes his former comrade before him. Each finger that snaps under Malice's demonic grip feels like a knife stabbing through his heart, driving home the guilt and shame he bears for not being able to stop him. Tears stream down his face, but they do little to wash away the blood that now stains it.

"Please," he whispers hoarsely, "stop..."

The hero winces as he hears Malice's words; they cut deeper than any blade ever could. He knew that Nasfev had changed him, but to hear it spoken aloud like this... It's almost too much for him to bear. "I-I don't know what you want me to say," he stammers, tears streaming down his face unchecked. "You're right; I should have seen it coming."

Malice merely laughs in reply, a chilling sound that sends shivers down the hero's spine. "Oh, don't be so humble," he says, walking over to stand before the hero. "I think you deserve better than that." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "You want redemption? You want to make things right again?" His crimson eyes bore into the hero, searching for any sign of lie or deceit.

The hero's eyes widen in shock as Malice reveals this information; he had no idea about the demon's sister or his part in protecting the town from bandits. "I-I didn't know," he stammers, trying to find some defense against these accusations. But as he looks into Malice's unyielding gaze, he realizes there is no escape; everything has led them here, to this moment.

A long silence follows, punctuated only by the sounds of distant battle and the sighing wind through the grass. Then, slowly, Malice lifts a hand and extends it toward the hero. "If you truly seek redemption," he says softly, "then perhaps there is still hope for you." His voice holds an air of resignation; he knows that even with this offer, the fate of Eldorin hangs in the balance.

The hero's face contorts in horror as he watches Malice summon the demonic pig. His eyes dart back and forth between the beast and his former ally, trying desperately to think of some way out of this dire situation. But it is clear that Malice holds all the cards; there is no escape, only surrender or death.

With a defeated sigh, he takes Malice's offered hand and allows himself to be pulled close. As they stand face-to-face, the hero meets Malice's crimson gaze once more. "I accept your offer," he whispers hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the howling wind that sweeps across the battlefield. "Let this end here and now."

The rest of the party looks on in shock and horror as their hero accepts Malice's offer, effectively condemning them all to a similar fate. Tears stream down their faces, but there are none left for pity; their only thoughts now revolve around survival and escaping from this nightmare reality. As the demonic pig approaches with its gaping maw, they find themselves helpless against the coming onslaught of agony and despair. With a final, silent prayer to whatever gods may still be listening, they prepare to meet their end...

The party members breathe out a sigh of relief as the demonic pig disappears, taking their deaths with it. They look to Malice, unsure what has just happened and if this is some sort of twisted game he's playing with them. The uncertainty weighs heavily on them all; they can feel the tension in the air, thick like smoke from a fire. But as they stand there, waiting for whatever comes next, they cannot help but wonder... if perhaps there truly was redemption to be found in accepting Malice's offer, even if it meant sacrificing themselves and their friends in the process.

The party looks at each other uncertainly. They have come to accept their fate, but the possibility of redemption, however unlikely it may seem, piques their curiosity. "What do you mean?" one of them asks cautiously. Malice's expression softens slightly as he answers them, his voice measured and considered.

The party exchanges uneasy glances as they try to process what Malice has just suggested. Murdering their own leader... It is a thought too terrible to contemplate. But at the same time, if it means saving Eldorin from his influence and ensuring that he does not rise again... They turn back to the hero, who meets their eyes with understanding in his gaze. He knows what must be done; he always knew there would come a day when he would have to make this ultimate sacrifice for the greater good.

With a nod, he takes the knife from Malice's outstretched hand and positions himself between the demon and his comrades. His fingers tighten around the hilt as he steels himself for what is about to come. "Do it," he says with quiet determination. "For Eldorin."

The party exchanges one final look before they spring into action. The blade is swifter than anticipated; a crimson spray erupts from the hero's chest as it finds its mark, sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap. There are no words of farewell or apology; there is only silence as they stand over his fallen form, their faces etched with grief and determination.

As Malice disappears from sight, vanishing into nothingness as promised, the air grows still once more. It takes several moments before anyone dares to move, but when they do, it's with a newfound resolve in their hearts. They have done what needed to be done; now it falls upon them to rebuild Eldorin and ensure that Malice does not rise again. The road ahead will be long and difficult, fraught with danger at every turn, but they walk together now, un