An archaeological team dug a three-meter-tall rune crystal out of a barren mountain range. Sealed inside was a young man with black hair, in his early twenties, wearing a Taoist robe so crisp it looked freshly ironed. Designated 9527, he was transported to the White Tower Museum.
On opening day, he opened his eyes.
They shone a holy light array at him. He squeezed the light into a wisp of white vapor. They summoned a Seventh-Ring mage to destroy him. He took the attack head-on.
You call this magic? He raised a hand. Back in my day, this stuff was called leaked exhaust.
Ten thousand years ago, the war between immortals and demons shattered the immortal realm. Seven false gods set up a divine-demon formation and sealed me, along with my entire sect, inside this crystal.
On this wasteland, magic is the private property of lords and nobles. Commoners are forbidden to touch a wand, and even the lowborn must pay a tax to light a lamp. Nine out of ten people have never even touched a magic crystal.
Ten thousand years later, they put me and the crystal up for auction and set the terms: negotiable, installments accepted, landed lords have priority.
I laughed. My sect's creed is love and peace, a world united as one. So let's start with you.
Honghuang: Ancestor of Humanity, Joining a Chat Group from the Start
Spiritual Qi Revival: My Door Leads to a Miniature Universe
Beast Taming: My Pets Come from the Future
Global Lord: Building an Immortal Realm from Scratch
I Am the Fated Villain
RT
Global Slaughter: Awakening an SSS-Rank Talent at the Start