Chapter 111: The Rain Is About to Cease

As Li Lekang transformed into the LED War God, a radiant pillar of light walking upon the water, the well-prepared second male lead—Frank Stoll, the officiating priest for this event—made his grand entrance!

Clad in a golden bishop’s stole around his neck and adorned with an intricately carved sacred vestment, he bore a chest full of shimmering holy medals and sacred images. In his hands, he held a six-pointed star stand, a distinctive symbol of the saints. Taking in the scene before him, he could not help but proclaim loudly:

“In the beginning, the heavens and the earth were formless and void; darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters!”

“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light!”

His voice rang out at just the right moment.

The gloomy afternoon sky resembled the onset of night, yet the beam of light above the lake instantly became the focal point for all present. Stoll’s proclamation left the gathered saints utterly stunned. Coupled with the sight of someone walking on water, it was impossible for them to remain calm.

For most, this was their first encounter with such a feat of movement.

Li Lekang’s footsteps on the water were measured and unhurried, his face serene with a worldly detachment. Each step he took upon the surface struck the hearts of the faithful like a heavy hammer.

Though numerous water-walking illusions had recently circulated online, the saints present preferred to trust their own eyes and believed firmly that the messiah had indeed been found.

A warmth blossomed on site, banishing the chill from the air.

Of course, this was not due to Li Lekang’s magical prowess—he was not yet that powerful. Rather, concealed heating devices scattered around in various forms did the work: a flowerpot doubling as an air conditioning outlet, a lamppost converted into a heating pipe… the so-called “lack of magic but ample funds” approach!

This also explained the deliberate choice to have them wait in the cold wind: how else could they appreciate the sacred warmth if they had not first felt the cold?

Barefoot, Li Lekang was nearing the shore.

The chorus of hymns rose and fell, and the crowd instinctively joined in.

Seemingly displeased by the muddy bank, he lifted his foot and stepped into thin air, as if supported by an invisible staircase of air—an even more exaggerated feat than walking on water.

If walking on water invited skepticism—especially since a renowned Chinese magician had recently performed a similar trick—then this defiance of gravity could not be explained away by mere illusion.

Most of the saints were deeply shaken by this display.

Eventually, Li Lekang grew tired of walking and simply floated onto the stage, a golden halo glowing behind his head, his feet not touching the ground.

In many religions, such a halo is the mark of a saint or deity.

This single image alone captivated the saints both on site and watching on television.

The vast majority were convinced beyond doubt that this was the divine incarnation, the prophesied Son of God.

Only a stubborn few clung to doubt, rejecting the reality before them. Gardner, for instance, remained an unwavering skeptic of Stoll’s theatrics.

Watching the barefoot water-walking scene, he muttered to himself: “Who hasn’t seen Li Lekang’s magic before? There must be some trick beneath this!”

Clinging to his outdated views, he fancied himself the lone sober mind amid a sea of fools and believed he could perform the same miracle if cast as the messiah.

But the subsequent defiance of gravity and eventual flight to the stage slapped his skepticism in the face. Still, his last vestige of stubbornness made him grit his teeth and hold onto his disbelief.

Li Lekang’s gaze swept over the bowed congregation, deliberately resting on Gardner before tilting his head back and slowly levitating to accept their attention.

The messiah spoke no words, for silence is safer than speech in such moments.

Yet the atmosphere was far from awkward. Bishop Stoll immediately knelt on the side steps, leading the congregation in prayer:

“May the love of the Heavenly Father, the grace and gifts of the Holy Spirit be with you all!”

The crowd replied: “And also with your spirit, Bishop Stoll!”

“Brothers and sisters, what you have witnessed is the glory bestowed by the Almighty, the heavenly King, the omnipotent Father, who has sent the bloodline messiah, for He is holy, supreme, and all-knowing...”

The sermon segment was lengthy, and Li Lekang’s mind wandered—pondering whether to have Chinese or Western food that evening.

After all, a stronger physique demanded more energy intake, especially while sustaining a magical effect.

As Li Lekang’s thoughts drifted, Stoll continued his recitation. He held a degree in theology, not merely a brawny brute raised in the faith.

At his level, adaptability was second nature—today a preacher, tomorrow a politician, and perhaps even a presidential candidate.

No matter the role, the core skill was persuasion. Just look at the excited faces before them—some even fainting from the overwhelming emotion!

Floating above, Li Lekang had a perfect view and saw an elderly man collapse, overcome by low blood sugar. Even as he fell, the man gripped the six-pointed star stand tightly, murmuring prayers—truly a seasoned believer.

Judging by his prime seat near the front, he was probably a committee representative, a sign that Stoll’s influence was steadily growing.

As the strongest member of Li Lekang’s circle, Stoll’s steadiness promised a bright future.

Yet the heavens seemed uncooperative. Dark, heavy clouds swept in, signaling an impending storm. Distant rumbles of thunder quickened the pace of events.

Soon, the patter of rain filled the air, visible sheets of rain sweeping over the lake and drenching the crowd in moments.

But Stoll’s voice did not falter; he was close to finishing his solemn oration, and in such a sacred moment, even fireballs or blades would not interrupt the ritual.

The saints, likewise, ignored the rain entirely, their hearts united in prayer. Even as thunder crashed overhead, not a hint of fear stirred among them.

Then, amid the ceremony, a powerful voice echoed through all their ears:

“The rain shall cease!”

And the rain stopped.

Astonished, the people looked upward. Though the storm still poured heavily around them, above their heads the raindrops seemed suspended, as if held by an invisible force, unable to fall any further.

Curious hands reached out to touch the hovering droplets. At once, the droplets were pulled back, retracing their path to the sky.

The roar of rain still filled their ears. The trees and plants around them continued to be drenched, but above their heads, a pocket of calm formed—a sanctuary amid the tempest.

The crowd was overwhelmed, their minds struggling to process what they were witnessing.

This scene defied mortal comprehension.

Quick-witted as ever, Stoll seized the moment—though unplanned, none had anticipated the downpour—and raised his arms in exaltation:

“All honor and glory to the Almighty who blesses us! Hallelujah!”

Three thousand fervent voices roared back:

“Hallelujah!”

“He is with us!”

“And also with our spirit!”

“Praise the Holy Spirit!”

“Praise the Holy Spirit!”

The saints’ fervor reached its peak with this chorus, followed by countless prostrations and praises. Scanning the sea of worshippers, all were consumed by devotion.

Even Gardner, once defiant, dared not stand apart now.

His heart too was shaken by this divine power, and with his worldview shattered, he knelt and bowed in submission.

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