by bobmachine
He was the strongest cultivator the realm had ever known. Now he's a stranger in a world that runs on mana, and his qi is running out. Two hundred years ago, Huan Lun destroyed the Demonic Cult's temples. It took him almost as long again to hunt down what was left of it: the survivors, the stragglers, the ones who ran far enough to be forgotten. Only in the last few decades did he finally stop. He was certain he'd ended it for good. He was wrong. He went back to the mountains where it all began. One wound from the old war was still open: a crystal, buried in the dead earth, still feeding on what's left. He destroyed it without a second thought. It wasn't just a crystal. It was a door. It threw him somewhere else entirely. A world of mana. A world of mages, swords, and monsters. A world that has never heard of qi, and where qi, once spent, doesn't come back. To survive here, he may have to become the very thing he once swore to destroy.
