Under One Person: I Have a Billion Taoist Gods Within Me

Chapter 55 Invoking the Thunder Ancestor Heavenly Venerable! Commanding the Gods of the Underworld!

It's too deep.

It has become so deep that it has long been completely integrated with Liang Ting's very existence.

For twenty years, every disdainful glance has been a nail in the sand.

For the past twenty years, every malicious word has been a carving knife.

Over the past twenty years, every moment that has been pushed aside, ignored, and forgotten has been a shovelful of dirt.

Those nails, those carving knives, those soil, layer upon layer, built an unbreakable city in Liang Ting's heart.

There was no light in that city.

Only hatred remains.

Hatred is Liang Ting's reason for living, his motivation to become stronger, and his only solace when he licks his wounds alone every night.

If he didn't hate, what would have sustained him until now?

If he had no hatred, how could he face those contemptuous looks and vicious words?

If he hadn't harbored hatred, he would have died long ago on those countless lonely nights.

Therefore, that slight wavering is fleeting.

Like a drop of water falling into lava, it was completely swallowed up before even a wisp of mist could evaporate.

The glimmer of light that had just appeared in Liang Ting's eyes was extinguished once again.

Instead, a flame more intense, more resolute, and more desperate than before was ignited.

The little yellow paper figure floated in the void, silently watching this scene.

Those eyes, dotted with cinnabar, shone with a deep, unfathomable light, devoid of sorrow or joy.

Because from beginning to end, Li Yuan never expected that he could change Liang Ting with just this one illusion.

The compassion of Taiyi Jiuku Tianzun was merely to allow Liang Ting to "see" himself.

See the light you once had, see how that light went out, and see how that fire was ignited.

As for how to choose after seeing it, that's Liang Ting's own business.

Li Yuan never intended to use this to erase the hatred in Liang Ting's heart.

They never even considered changing Liang Ting's nature.

As mentioned before:

Liang Ting's twisted mindset had long since become one with his astonishing skills and extreme behavior.

It cannot be transformed by human power, nor can it be saved by Taoist methods.

Forcibly reversing it is tantamount to destroying its very existence.

This is not what Li Yuan sought.

What he needs to do is not to futilely "save" or "correct".

Rather, it is a "guide".

It is also a form of "exploitation".

Guide that flame that has been burning for twenty years to flow where it is meant to go.

Using that blade, hardened with hatred, to strike those who deserve it.

And right now—

The opportunity has arrived.

Just as the slightest wavering in Liang Ting's heart was completely engulfed by the flames.

Just as the light that had just appeared in his eyes completely disappeared.

The little yellow paper figure whispered the incantation again.

"The Supreme Lord's decree, transformations arise from the mind."

In the blink of an eye, one can see and hear everything in all directions.

"Urgently sent one"

"The Nine Heavens respond to the Origin, thunder resounds universally!"

The moment the incantation fell, deep within the inner scene of the Great Luo Palace.

Above that divine throne, an extremely majestic phantom suddenly appeared.

He wore a crown and a purple robe, and his body was surrounded by countless bolts of lightning.

Within that light, the faint phantoms of countless Thunder Gods, Thunder Goddess, Lightning Goddess, Wind God, and Rain Master could be seen, all paying homage.

He held a thunder wedge in his hand, and the thunder wedge was filled with power enough to split the heavens and open the earth.

Beside him hung a thunder drum, upon which seemed to be engraved all the secrets of thunder throughout history.

That is—

The Heavenly Venerable Who Responds to the Origin of Thunder and Universal Transformation in the Nine Heavens!

The supreme ruler of the Thunder Department, in charge of the Five Thunders, governs the thunder and lightning of heaven and earth, universally transforms the ten directions, and responds to suffering.

The Supreme Nine Heavens Jade Purity Great Brahma Purple Micro Mysterious Capital Thunder Jade Scripture states: "Thunder is the pivot of heaven and earth. The Heavenly Venerable, out of compassion for the suffering of all beings, emits the great thunderous sound, universally transforming the ten directions and responding to their cries to relieve suffering."

"The Heavenly Venerable of Universal Transformation through Thunder in the Nine Heavens truly holds power, overseeing the Five Thunders. His divine presence is awe-inspiring, and his holy influence is boundless."

At this moment, on that divine throne, the phantom of the Thunder God slightly raised his eyes.

Those eyes, brimming with boundless thunderous power, seemed to pierce the boundary between the inner world and reality, landing on Liang Ting.

Then, streaks of lightning surged forth from the divine throne.

That lightning was neither an attack nor a punishment.

Instead, it's "photographed".

o

To see the future.

It reveals the myriad possibilities that may arise from the intertwining of countless causes and effects.

Liang Ting felt a blur before his eyes.

The illusion has changed.

He was no longer that little boy in the mass grave.

No longer those extinguished lights.

It is another version of yourself.

Liang Ting saw himself standing in the same training ground.

The ropes binding him swayed in the night wind, and the talismans glowed with a dark red light in the firelight.

And beneath his feet—

Dozens of corpses lay scattered about.

Those corpses, each face, were all all too familiar to him.

It's Zhou Hu.

It was those senior brothers who had just insulted him.

It is everyone who has ever despised him, mocked him, or pushed him away.

Their deaths were all different.

Some had their throats pierced by the mechanical ropes, some had their necks snapped by brute force, and Liang Ting looked at the corpses without changing his expression.

There was no joy, no relief, no emotion that should have been there.

Just watching.

It's like looking at a pile of objects that have nothing to do with him.

His hatred for his fellow disciples arose because of them while they were alive.

They are dead, but the hatred will not disappear.

Because the roots of hatred have already run too deep.

It is so profound that it becomes one with his very existence.

The enemy is dead, but the hatred remains.

The hatred remains, but who should he hate?

In the illusion, that version of myself remained standing, motionless.

Just like him right now.

The images flow.

Another scene emerges.

Liang Ting saw himself standing in front of the sect leader.

The sect leader was still wearing that dark blue robe, his face was thin, and his temples were slightly gray.

Those eyes still held that familiar complexity—

Disappointment, regret, hatred.

There was also a deep-seated sense of guilt that even the sect leader himself was unwilling to acknowledge.

But at this moment, that guilt is no longer important.

Because the sect leader had a bloody hole in his chest.

The edge of the blood-stained hole bore the marks of being torn by the mechanical rope.

The sect leader looked down at the bloody hole, then looked up at Liang Ting.

The complex light in those eyes was extinguished at that moment.

Only a faint trace of liberation remains?

As Liang Ting watched this scene, the expression on his face changed slightly.

That slight change was so subtle that it was almost imperceptible.

Like a calm lake surface, gently touched by a speck of dust, creating a ripple that quickly dissipates.

What is that?

Is it regret?

Is it pain?

It's something even he himself can't explain.

But that slight change was fleeting.

Like ripples on a lake, once they dissipate, the lake remains calm.

It was as calm as a mirror.

The mirror reflected only the gradually cooling corpse.

The scene shifts again.

Liang Ting saw himself in that image and walked towards Gao Xiaomei.

Gao Xiaomei was still wearing that light blue dress, and her long black hair was still simply tied back.

On that delicate, fair face, those bright, sparkling eyes were looking at him.

But the light in those eyes was different from before.

In that illusion just now, Gao Xiaomei looked at him with a look of unbearable pity, heartache, and a ray of light shining into the darkness.

But now—

Those eyes held only fear.

Naked, undisguised fear.

Gao Xiaomei looked at Liang Ting, at his ugly face, at the bloody holes and ropes on his body, and at the corpses scattered on the ground behind him.

Her body was trembling, her lips were trembling, her whole body was trembling.

She wanted to run, but her legs were too weak to move.

She tried to shout, but her voice was too hoarse to make a sound.

Gao Xiaomei could only stare at Liang Ting, her eyes filled with fear, at this—

The senior brother who once gave her wound medicine.

The expression on Liang Ting's face finally changed genuinely.

That change was not a fleeting ripple like the one before.

He saw himself walking towards Gao Xiaomei step by step.

Every step he took touched his heart.

He saw the fear in Gao Xiaomei's eyes grow stronger and stronger.

He saw her finally collapse to the ground, trying her best to shrink back, but there was a wall behind her, and nowhere to retreat.

He saw Gao Xiaomei open her mouth and, in a hoarse voice, utter those three words: "No...don't..."

Liang Ting was startled!

Those three words struck his heart like a thunderbolt!

He saw that version of himself standing in front of Gao Xiaomei.

He saw himself, and raised his hand—

That hand had just torn apart the throats of countless people.

That hand is now reaching out to Gao Xiaomei.

Gao Xiaomei closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Liang Ting finally couldn't hold back any longer.

He lunged forward, mustering all his strength, and roared, "No—!"

That roar shook the entire illusion.

But in that illusion, he was still raising his hand, still reaching out to Gao Xiaomei.

Liang Ting stared intently at the hand, at Gao Xiaomei's tear-streaked face, at her closed eyes, and suddenly realized something.

The self in that illusion is the self in this moment.

Those he killed were the same people he was about to kill.

Gao Xiaomei's fear at this moment is the same fear he is about to bring her.

And the words "No...don't..." are about to be uttered from her mouth.

Liang Ting was trembling all over.

That flame, which had been burning for twenty years, was now pulsating violently.

It's not because of hatred.

Rather, it's because—

He finally saw himself.

I saw what I would become after being completely consumed by hatred.

And just then...

The screen suddenly shattered!

The gloomy dusk, the corpses scattered on the ground, the tearful and terrified Gao Xiaomei, the rope suspended in mid-air—everything—all turned into countless fragments, scattering in all directions.

Liang Ting's consciousness suddenly sank into that endless void.

It was as if I had woken up from a nightmare.

Yet it felt as if I had fallen into another, deeper, more real, and more incredible dream.

The image reappeared.

This time, it was no longer a gloomy dusk.

Instead, it was a battlefield engulfed in war.

Smoke filled the air, and flames of war raged everywhere.

In the sky, countless magical arts and techniques intertwined, as heroes from the world of extraordinary beings unleashed their most powerful methods.

On the ground, the shouts of battle were deafening, as countless warriors fought valiantly.

In the very center of this battlefield, a figure stood proudly.

He was as tall and imposing as a mountain, yet as ugly as a ghost.

It was wrapped in countless mechanical ropes, like an eight-armed Asura or a hellish demon.

It was Liang Ting!

In front of him were countless Japanese pirates.

Those Japanese pirates, clad in armor and wielding sharp blades, had ferocious faces and howled like wild beasts.

They surged in like a tide, wave after wave, as if they could never be killed off.

Liang Ting's face was expressionless.

He simply stood there, letting the Japanese pirates charge at him.

Then the mechanism started!

The eight mechanical ropes extending from his back were like eight poisonous dragons, frantically weaving through the Japanese pirates!

With each passage, the head of a Japanese pirate flew high into the air.

With each passage, a Japanese pirate's chest was pierced through.

The four mechanical ropes extending from the wrists were even more flexible and unpredictable, like four venomous snakes, specifically designed to reap the Japanese pirates who attempted to attack from the side.

The talismans on his body shimmered with a dark red light.

Each time a Japanese pirate was killed, the talismans would light up a little more.

It was as if the blood of those Japanese pirates was their best fuel.

On the battlefield, the extraordinary experts from the supernatural world who fought alongside Liang Ting were all dumbfounded.

They had never seen such carnage.

That wasn't a battle, that was a harvest.

That wasn't a confrontation, that was a crushing defeat.

Those Japanese pirates who were fierce and difficult to deal with in their eyes were as fragile as paper in front of Liang Ting, collapsing at the slightest touch.

An old Taoist priest with white hair and beard, holding a whisk, watched Liang Ting's figure slaughtering everyone and muttered, "Who is this person? He's so ferocious!"

A middle-aged swordsman beside him wiped the blood from his face, his voice filled with astonishment: "Liang Ting! Liang Ting of the Ink Tendon Soft Bone School!"

"I'd only ever heard that he was a recluse and ugly, but I never imagined... I never imagined he'd be such a vicious and ruthless person!"

"Good! Good! Good!"

Another burly man roared with laughter, his voice booming, "Well done! Well done!"

"These Japanese pirates deserve to be killed! Let them know the power of the extraordinary people of China!"

Those gazes, those voices, surged in like a tide.

It was no longer contempt, no longer disgust, no longer fear.

Instead, they felt amazement, admiration, and respect.

Even awe!

Liang Ting listened to those voices and felt those gazes.

His ugly face remained expressionless.

But in his eyes, which were burning with fire, there was now a hint of something else—

Something that has never existed before.

He couldn't describe that thing in words.

But that thing made him swing the mechanical rope in his hand even faster.

kill!

kill!

kill!

One hour later.

On the battlefield, not a single Japanese pirate remained standing.

Corpses lay strewn across the fields, and blood flowed like rivers.

The corpses of those Japanese pirates were piled up like mountains, a truly gruesome sight.

Liang stood atop the mountain of corpses, his body covered in blood, like a demon crawling out of hell.

But now, no one describes him as a "demon" anymore.

Those experts from the world of supernatural beings gathered around.

Their eyes were on him.

There was no fear in those eyes, only reverence.

The old Taoist priest stepped forward and bowed deeply to Liang Ting: "Fellow Daoist Liang, today's battle has truly broadened my horizons!"

"Fellow Daoist's divine might is unparalleled! You have slain the Japanese pirates, striking fear into their hearts. You are truly a role model for us all!"

The middle-aged swordsman also clasped his hands in a respectful greeting, his voice sincere: "Brother Liang, I was blind to your greatness before, but today I realize you are a true hero!"

"These Japanese pirates have invaded our territory and killed our compatriots. Brother Liang's actions today are truly gratifying! Truly gratifying!"

The burly man immediately knelt down and kowtowed three times: "Hero Liang! I've never admired anyone in my life, but today I admire you!"

"You saved my life! From now on, if you need anything, just let me know!"

Countless people bowed in respect.

Countless gazes, filled with reverence and admiration, fell upon him.

That was something he had never received in twenty years.

That was something he had longed for countless times in the dead of night, but had never dared to hope for.

Liang Ting stood there, motionless.

He looked at the people who bowed to him, at their eyes filled with respect.

His ugly face remained expressionless.

But deep within his eyes, the flame that had burned for twenty years trembled slightly at this moment.

It's not a wavering.

It is a warm feeling.

The scene changes again.

This time, it's no longer a battlefield.

Instead, it is a magnificent altar.

On the altar, a figure in a moon-white Taoist robe stood quietly.

It was Li Yuan.

Li Yuan raised his hand towards the sky.

He softly chanted a mantra, his voice not loud, yet it seemed to penetrate the three realms and ten directions: "Taiyi saves from suffering, Jiuyou expels sins."

Gods of the underworld, heed my command.

Countless souls have been drawn to this place.

Refine and unify, forging the Human Emperor.

"banner!"

The moment the incantation ended.

The world changed color!

Countless rays of light surged in from all directions!

Within those lights, the figures of countless dead souls could be faintly seen.

Those souls were all Japanese pirates.

These were all Japanese pirates who died at the hands of Liang Ting and countless other Chinese heroes.

Their souls, now forcibly drawn from the underworld by the power of the gods of the underworld, are gathered here.

Li Yuan raised his hand and waved it.

All those lost souls were sucked into a huge banner.

On the banner, countless talismans flickered and countless divine lights flowed.

That's a banner of a single emperor!

Forged with the souls of countless enemy soldiers, this national treasure is a divine weapon!

On the day the banner is completed, the power of these dead souls can be mobilized to protect China and deter foreign enemies!

Liang Ting stood beneath the altar, gazing at the Emperor's Banner.

He saw that the souls of the Japanese pirates who had died at his hands were now struggling and wailing in the banners, never to be reborn.

He saw Li Yuan standing on the altar, calmly looking down at everything.

He saw countless experts from the world of supernatural beings kneeling beneath the altar, devoutly worshipping Li Yuan and the Emperor's Banner.

The scene changes again.

This time, it's after the war.

The war has ended, and the smoke has dissipated.

The people emerged from their hiding places to watch the triumphant heroes.

They saw Liang Ting.

I saw that ugly face, that body covered in wounds, that blood-soaked battle robe.

But this time, there was no fear, no contempt.

only-

gratitude.

An elderly woman with white hair walked shakily to Liang Ting, knelt down with a thud, and cried out in tears, "My benefactor! My benefactor!"

"My son was captured by those Japanese pirates, but you killed them all and rescued him!"

"This old woman is kowtowing to you! Kowtowing to you!"

A young woman, holding a baby, also knelt down: "Hero Liang! Thank you! Thank you!"

"If it weren't for you, our village would have been slaughtered by those beasts long ago!"

A group of children gathered around.

They looked up at Liang Ting with their little faces upturned.

There was no fear in those eyes, only worship.

A little boy with a topknot asked in a childish voice, "Uncle, are you a god? A god who fights bad guys?"

Another little girl timidly reached out, wanting to touch the hem of Liang Ting's clothes.

Liang Ting looked down at the children.

Looking at those innocent faces, looking at those clear eyes.

He suddenly felt that something inside him was quietly melting away.

The flame that had burned for twenty years was no longer blazing, but warm.

The scene then changes again.