Reversing Falsehood and Preserving Truth: All Gods and Gods Are in My Hands

The vanished Jormungandr had not yet completely faded from his consciousness; the destructive thunder and the serpent's howl still resonated deep within his soul.

The next moment, the biting cold and heavy moisture suddenly enveloped us like a giant net.

The scene before my eyes changed from a dark, raging sea to a boundless marshland.

The sky was no longer the inky, destructive clouds, but rather low-hanging, leaden-gray clouds laden with rain. The drizzling rain was like an endless curtain of tears hanging from the heavens and earth, shrouding the entire world in oppressive dampness and gloom.

This is an ordinary village nestled against the mountains and beside the water. The once neatly arranged wooden houses are now half submerged in the muddy yellow floodwaters, with the water level already above half the walls.

The murky water, carrying broken branches, shattered furniture, and even the bloated carcasses of livestock, swirled and surged through the former streets and alleys.

Dirty foam rose to the surface of the water, and the air was filled with the stench of mud, decay, and... a deep-seated despair.

On the only slightly higher earthen slope, villagers who had escaped the flood were crowded together. They huddled together like a flock of frightened sheep, their clothes soaked and clinging to their shivering bodies.

An elderly woman with white hair tightly hugged a swaddled baby in her arms. The baby's cries were weak and feeble. The old woman's cloudy eyes stared at the rising floodwaters, filled with bewilderment and numbness.

A thin boy clung tightly to his father's legs, while the father futilely tried to shield his wife and child from the wind and rain with his body; his shoulders slumped, and his eyes held a bottomless helplessness.

Many more people simply sat in silence, watching their former homes being swallowed up bit by bit, their faces devoid of expression, as if their souls had been carried away by the flood.

The most heartbreaking sight was a little girl with pigtails standing at the edge of the earthen slope. She was about five or six years old, wearing a faded blue floral dress, the hem of which was now covered in mud.

She clutched tightly to an old teddy bear, equally soaked, its fabric faded, and one of its buttons and eyes missing. Unlike the other children, she didn't cry loudly; instead, she bit her lower lip hard, her small body trembling uncontrollably, her large eyes brimming with tears, yet she stubbornly refused to let them fall, staring intently at the ever-approaching murky water, as if that would make it recede.

"The water is still rising!"

Someone screamed in despair, "The dam can't hold! We're going to die here!"

These words were like the last straw, breaking the taut nerves of many. Suppressed sobs and desperate sighs filled the crowd.

The little girl finally couldn't hold back anymore, and large tears rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the rain, and dripped onto the already soaked teddy bear's head. She hugged her only "companion" tightly, her small shoulders shaking, and she let out a whimper like a small animal.

Just then—

Deep within the thick, leaden clouds on the horizon, a pale blue, gentle yet exceptionally warm light, like a tender blade slicing through the darkness, quietly descended.

There was no deafening thunder, only a low and deep muffled sound, like a sigh from the depths of the earth, or a soothing rhythm.

As the light faded, a tall figure appeared in the floodwaters at the edge of the earthen slope. The water had reached his waist, and his scarlet cloak, soaked with mud, clung heavily to his broad shoulders and back, yet remained upright, like an unyielding flag.

His short, light golden hair was wet and clung to his forehead, with water droplets sliding down his angular face.

It's Thor.

But at this moment, he is completely different from the fierce, thunder-like figure he was when fighting Jormungandr.

His face showed no resolute fighting spirit; his azure eyes were filled with a deep and broad compassion, like the rain clouds that shrouded the sky and earth, heavy yet containing vitality.

He looked at the desperate crowd on the high ground, his gaze lingering for a moment on the crying little girl, his eyes softening.

"Don't be afraid."

His voice was no longer a thunderous roar, but a deep and gentle one, like the warm winter sun piercing through the clouds. "Thunder can not only shatter darkness, but also guide the light."

Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand towards the sky.

A soft, pale blue lightning appeared in his palm, no longer a destructive sharpness, but a fine, silky pattern of light, like countless gentle silver threads, slowly winding around the low-hanging dark clouds.

A miracle occurred: the torrential rain, which had been pouring down relentlessly, gradually subsided under the guidance of lightning, transforming from a downpour into a fine drizzle, and no longer exacerbating the devastation of the flood.

The villagers were stunned. Their desperate cries gradually subsided, and one by one they raised their heads to look at the giant in the red cloak who controlled the thunder, their eyes filled with disbelief.

Thor didn't stop. He turned around, his gaze sharp as lightning, and looked downstream from the village.

There, nestled between two mountains, the river channel, already narrow, was now completely blocked by countless boulders, broken logs, and silt swept down by the flash flood, becoming the culprit for the floodwaters flowing back into the village.

He took a deep breath, his arm muscles bulged, and lightning gathered in his palms. It was no longer a destructive lightning spear, but a condensed and heavy lightning pillar, carrying the majesty of order, and smashed hard into the blockage!

"Boom—!"

The lightning exploded, but it didn't destroy anything. Instead, it precisely cleaved the boulder in two and shook apart the tangled logs, like an invisible giant hand forcefully clearing the riverbed.

The turbid floodwaters instantly found an outlet and rushed along the river channel. The water level in the village dropped at a visible speed, and the previously submerged stone steps gradually became visible.

"It's...it's clear! The water's receded! The water's receded!"

The first incredulous shout erupted from the deathly silent crowd, which quickly turned into a wave of ecstatic joy.

People embraced each other, tears streaming down their faces—tears of hope.

Thor strode toward the high ground.

He walked straight toward the little girl who was still hugging her soaking wet teddy bear and staring blankly at the receding water level.

Amidst the awe, gratitude, and curiosity of the surrounding villagers, the giant who had just "combed" the mountains and rivers slowly squatted down, his gaze level with that of the little girl.

He extended his large, battle-scarred yet remarkably steady hand, and a warm, pale blue halo once again emanated from his palm, like a small, harmless sun.

The light gently enveloped the little girl.

Her soaked, mud-stained blue floral dress visibly dried and became clean, the mud disappearing as if it had been carefully washed and dried by the gentlest hands.

Her equally soaked hair became fluffy, and the old teddy bear in her arms was no longer heavy and wet, but dry and soft again. The button eye that had fallen off was even gently "stuck" back in by a ray of light.

The little girl was completely stunned. She looked down at her clean and warm dress, touched the dry teddy bear in her arms, and then looked up at the "giant" in front of her, who was soaking wet, had mud on his face, but had sky-blue eyes and a warm smile.

Thor grinned at her, revealing a completely innocent, even somewhat naive, smile, his white teeth standing out starkly against the gray sky.

The tenderness in his eyes was almost overflowing.

"Don't be afraid, thunder will bring hope."

He reached out his finger and touched the bear's "repaired" eye very gently.

The little girl blinked, and the tears that had been building up for so long finally rolled down her cheeks again. But this time, they were no longer tears of fear and despair, but rather a huge, warm feeling of relief and release of pent-up grievances that left her bewildered.

She suddenly reached out her little arms and hugged Thor's wrist, which was still damp and smelled of water. She buried her face in his rough palm and began to sob, but this time it was a relaxed and cathartic cry.

Thor didn't pull his hand away, letting the little girl hug him. The warm halo from his other palm expanded, rippling outwards and gently brushing over everyone shivering on the high ground.

The soaked clothes were dried, and the cold body felt warm, even dispelling much of the despairing dampness and chill in the air.

The numbness in my toes from being soaked in the floodwaters returned, and my cold palms regained their warmth.

People quieted down, feeling this incredible warmth, and looked at the reliable figure squatting in front of the child, as reliable as a mountain, their eyes filled with gratitude and piety as if looking up to a god.

Lu Yu hovered in the void, watching this scene, his eyes instantly welling up with tears.

There was no heroic sacrifice in the defense of the Asgardian bridgehead, nor the resolute destruction that purified evil in the confrontation with Jormungandr.

Here you'll find only the most ordinary villages, the most common mortals, and the gentlest thunder.

But his soul was struck more violently than the previous two times. An indescribable bitterness and enlightenment filled his heart, and his eyes burned.

He understood completely.

Thunder is never a single force; it is the armor of protection, the blade of destruction, and the light of hope that maintains world order and fosters life.

"I see……"

Lu Yu's consciousness trembled violently, and insights surged into his mind like a tidal wave.

He could clearly feel that the power of the Thunder Path had completely transformed; the previous awkwardness had vanished without a trace, replaced by a profound sense of control.

"Thunderous Path - Great Dao Inheritance - Form Condensation Realm".

An ancient consciousness resounded in his mind, carrying the majesty of the Great Dao's approval.

Lu Yu's Thunder Avenue has officially been upgraded to 2 stars!