Anime Crossover: This Holy Lord Only Wants Friendly Communication

The old man's mouth was wide open, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. His astonished expression was frozen on his face, as if he was about to utter his habitual "Oh dear." The slight upward curve of the corners of his mouth, in this deathly silence, revealed a touch of humor and abruptness.

Jackie Chan, like a warrior charging into battle, was "petrified" halfway through. His immortal divine armor flashed with light, as if unwilling to be trapped, and he "writhed" slightly in the frozen space-time, struggling endlessly.

Each tremor of the light seemed to be a testament to the struggle against this binding force.

The intricate patterns on the armor, resembling ancient and mysterious runes, shimmered in the dim light, as if silently accumulating power, waiting for the moment to break the deadlock.

Jiang dared not linger for long, as he could clearly sense the power within his body pouring out like a floodgate opening. Moreover, it was not just the loss of magic power, but also the subtle, indescribable substances, like fragments of his soul, quietly slipping away.

Especially the Undying God Armor, which exudes an eerie aura. How could ordinary armor possess such heaven-defying strength? It seems to be forging Jackie Chan into a living god, transcending the mortal realm.

In his anxiety, he used his will to move the dark shadow beneath his feet as if it had been awakened, instantly becoming agile and meandering.

Before leaving, Jiang Shinian's gaze fell on Xiaoyu's face. He saw that her expression was complicated, with a hint of inner turmoil, as if her heart was in turmoil.

A three-point guarantee is like a candle in the dark, holding fast to a glimmer of light amidst confusion.

A degree of doubt, like a swirling mist, obscured clear eyes.

Having discerned his attitude, Jiang Shinian's figure flashed, like a ghost blending into the night, disappearing into the darkness in an instant, leaving only a deathly silence and emptiness, as if he had never appeared there.

Only the lingering magical afterglow in the air testifies that this thrilling confrontation truly took place.

Chapter 111 Running away to the women's bathhouse

"buzz"

As Jiang Shinian's figure disappeared, the shackles of time seemed to shatter like broken glass, and the surroundings instantly regained their vitality, with colors and energy returning like a tide.

The wind howled again, and sand and dust filled the air, shrouding the neighborhood in a dim and chaotic haze once more.

"Wait, what just happened? Where is the Holy Master?"

Jackie Chan dashed forward, and wherever he landed, dust billowed up, leaving only emptiness. The once majestic dragon vanished like a dream, leaving only the lingering magical aura in the air as proof that it had once existed.

"Wait, do dragons have fur?"

Jackie Chan scratched his head, looking confused and bewildered, like a child lost in a maze, at a loss.

He stood there, the light of his Undying God Armor dimmed, like a star that had lost its brilliance, leaving only an ancient and worn outline. Under the wind and sand, it appeared even more weathered and heavy, like a hero in his twilight years, who, though he had experienced countless battles, was now filled with loneliness and confusion.

The old man strolled over, his gaze falling on Jackie Chan's now-dimmed divine armor. His cloudy eyes, like a deep pool, rippled with emotion, as if he were silently analyzing and replaying events in his mind, trying to uncover the secrets within.

He stood beneath a crumbling wall, its surface etched with the marks of time, and moss stubbornly spreading across it despite the harsh conditions, seemingly silently testifying to its past perseverance.

At this moment, however, he was also affected by the solemn aura emanating from his father, and trembled as if he knew that although a world-shaking battle had temporarily come to an end, the aftershocks had not yet subsided, and the future was still full of uncertainties.

"Uncle Long!"

Xiaoyu skipped over, tapping her armor lightly with her little hands. Her eyes were full of admiration, her face lit up, and she said in a clear voice, "Uncle Long, you were so cool just now! If Jiang Shinian had seen that, he would definitely be stunned!"

Her graceful figure, like a bird hopping on a branch in spring, brought a splash of vibrant color to this gray and desolate neighborhood, like a ray of sunlight piercing through the clouds in the gloom, full of innocence and fearlessness.

"Ha ha……"

Jackie Chan gave a wry smile. The armor was old-fashioned and looked like an unearthed artifact. It was hardly aesthetically pleasing to wear, and he thought to himself that it was best not to let acquaintances see it.

He raised his hand, wanting to adjust his armor, but found his fingers were hindered by the thick armor plates, making his movements slightly clumsy, which only highlighted his helplessness and embarrassment at the moment.

Just as he was pondering, his father raised his hand, his fingers flashing like lightning, and a sharp flick landed precisely on Jackie Chan's forehead.

"Ouch!"

Jackie Chan winced in pain and tried to cover his forehead with both hands, but the armor was in his way. He could only rub it from a distance, wincing in pain, his eyes reddening and glistening with tears. He felt wronged and thought to himself, "Why is it so inconvenient to even rub a sore spot with this armor?"

"Oh no! The demon got away! What are we going to do?"

The old man raised his voice, which was as loud as a bell, full of anxiety and helplessness.

He stood with his hands on his hips, his body swaying slightly in the wind, his tattered clothes fluttering in the breeze, like an angry old general, heartbroken and helpless in the face of a missed opportunity.

"Dad, you were able to locate the talisman before, so cast some magic again and try to find the Holy Lord!"

Jackie Chan looked aggrieved, his voice trembling with tears, gazing longingly at his father like a drowning man clutching at a straw. He took a step forward, the bricks beneath his feet creaking as if echoing his anxious state of mind.

"What? You think magic is child's play! The Holy Lord is surrounded by black mist, like dark clouds obscuring the sun and the secrets of heaven. What do you think your father is, some kind of sniffing search dog?"

The old man stood with his hands on his hips, puffing out his cheeks and glaring, his tone exaggerated and full of resentment.

He turned and paced, raising dust beneath his feet. Each step seemed to tread on the tense nerves of everyone present, intensifying the already heightened atmosphere.

"And one more thing!"

The old man paused, looking exhausted, and waved his hand, saying, "I'm tired, I need to go back and rest quickly, and then continue searching for that curse!"

Having said that, he left, covered in the frost of the elements, and went far away from this place of trouble.

His figure receded into the wind and sand, seemingly merging into the endless darkness, leaving Jackie Chan and Jade standing in this dilapidated neighborhood, gazing in the direction their father had gone, filled with worry and confusion, as if they had been thrown into a raging storm by the hand of fate, not knowing where the road ahead lay.

Jiang Shi Nian escaped into the Ghost Shadow Kingdom and thrived there, traversing it for a long time before finding a "safe" place.

As soon as he surfaced, he felt a damp heat all over his body, as if he were in a steamer. Upon closer inspection, he realized he was in water. The warmth felt like a hot spring under the warm spring sun, but it made him feel uncomfortable all over, as if he were a dragon trapped in shallow water.

He quickly activated his fire energy, and flames rose all around him, as if he were wearing a layer of fiery armor, which kept the water out. When the water vapor met the fire, it instantly evaporated into wisps of white mist that swirled and drifted away.

At this moment, the place where he was standing seemed to be a mysterious fairyland. Water mist filled the air, and through the haze, he could see the strange rocks all around, which looked like ferocious beasts lying in wait, or like a fairy pointing the way. They appeared and disappeared in the swirling water vapor, revealing a mysterious and unpredictable atmosphere.

Beneath his feet, the hot spring water gurgled and surged, like the pulse of the earth, radiating warmth, yet it made Jiang Shinian wary, as if a deadly crisis lurked beneath this calm surface.

Once his vision cleared, Jiang Shinian looked around and saw that the place was shrouded in mist, like a fairyland, yet it also had a strange feel to it.

Not far away, the shower heads were arranged in a neat and orderly fashion, their metallic luster shimmering in the steam like twinkling stars.

Further away, a huge pool came into view, resembling an artificial hot spring, but with a more orderly and deliberate design than ordinary hot springs.

The pattern of exquisitely pieced tiles along the edge of the pool, slightly mottled by the erosion of water vapor, resembles the kiss marks left by time, telling of past prosperity and present mystery.

Just as he was wondering, several sharp screams came from his ears, as if sharp blades were cutting through the void. Jiang Shinian was startled and instantly became alert. The huge dragon head looked around, its scarlet eyes flashing, and flames burst out, instantly burning away the surrounding water mist. The air was like dried cloth, unbearably hot.

His vision suddenly cleared, but the scene before him left him dumbfounded. All around him were panicked women, their faces filled with terror, completely naked, like frightened white doves, huddled and trembling.

Their hair clung wetly to their cheeks, and water droplets slid down their necks like strings of pearls, shimmering in the chaos.

Some women covered their faces with their hands, and the terrified look peeking through their fingers was like a cold star in a deep, ancient well.

Some huddled in the corner, their bodies pressed tightly against the wall, as if trying to blend into the cold building and seek a sliver of shelter.

Jiang Shinian felt embarrassed, like a reckless man who had accidentally entered a forbidden area. He cursed inwardly at the shadowy figure for choosing such a place to linger. With a flash, he disappeared into the Ghost Shadow Kingdom again, as if he had never appeared.

Thinking to himself that this place was boring, and although there were many rabbits, they were all "little white rabbits" and not worth chewing, he continued to wander in the darkness, looking for the next place to roost.

Chapter 112 Preparing to Collect the Twelve Palaces

In that seemingly endless void, Jiang Shinian was like a stroke of ink, traversing countless miles of vast territory with a speed that transcended the mundane.

His figure appeared and disappeared amidst the interplay of darkness and light, like a ghost traversing the realms of Yin and Yang. Each movement was accompanied by a slight tremor in space, as if he were wrestling with the vast天地 (heaven and earth).

With overwhelming power, it tears through one invisible barrier after another, all to reach that predetermined direction.

The mysterious aura surrounding it was like a materialized black silk, strand by strand.

As he moved forward, the unique mark from the Ghost Kingdom fluttered freely, signifying his esteemed status as one of the eight great demons.

Like a guiding thread, it led him along the obscure coordinates emitted by the shadowy ninja, steadfastly heading towards the mysterious island hidden deep in the blue waves.

Time, in its rapid rush, seemed to have lost its former leisurely rhythm, flowing swiftly through the fingers like fine sand, leaving little trace of its lingering nature.

In the blink of an eye, Jiang Shinian, shrouded in shadows, stood silently at the edge of darkness and reality, like a demon god awakened from ancient times, raising his eyes to gaze at the narrow passage connecting the Ghost Kingdom with the dazzling world outside.

His gaze, like a sharp arrow piercing through a thousand-year-old mist, looked straight at the scene at the other end of the passage. It was a dreamlike jungle island, as if it had been meticulously sculpted by the gods, a paradise beyond the mortal world, secluded and independent.

On the island, the stars are like tiny diamonds embedded in the night sky, densely packed and reflecting each other. The silvery light that falls is like a delicate thread, gently intertwining with the sparkling waves, weaving a dreamlike picture of light and shadow.

The waves are like the ceaseless pulse of the earth, one after another, gently lapping against the winding, encircling beach, which resembles a golden brocade generously spread out by the earth, delicate and soft.

Bathed in the combined light of moonlight and starlight, it shimmers with a captivating glow, enticing every passing soul to pause and linger.

Amidst this picturesque scenery, a group of crickets, their red color resembling burning charcoal, dance like lively musical notes.

They flitted merrily through the lush, carpet-like green grass, playing a leisurely and carefree nocturne full of wild vitality.

The moonlight is like a gentle and graceful fairy, extending her slender hand with endless pampering and tenderness, gently caressing every blade of grass and tree on the island, bestowing upon all things a layer of tranquil and peaceful silver gauze.

The night was as clear as a mirror that had been washed many times.

The gentle breeze, like a playful and adorable sprite, carries the rich and intoxicating fragrance of flowers, leisurely sweeping across every inch of land, attracting the white and yellow wildflowers.

Like a group of shy young girls, swaying gracefully in the wind, dancing beautifully.

Like colorful patterns meticulously embroidered on green silk, they dot the vibrant green landscape.

This place holds many thrilling memories of the past. It was the old battlefield where they fiercely fought for the mysterious monkey talisman, a battlefield filled with the smoke of battle. It was also the place where his fate intertwined with that mysterious and unpredictable black stone, the embodiment of black energy, and where they met too late in life.

Recalling the glorious past, Black Stone, like a prophet who knew the secrets of heaven, solemnly and earnestly gave him his instructions.

After being reborn, he must rush here as quickly as possible to retrieve the Yingquan Spring and the Twelve Golden Palaces, which contain endless mysterious power. His tone and expression seemed to entrust him with the weighty responsibility of turning the tide of fate and shifting the balance of power.

Therefore, after Jiang Shinian narrowly escaped from the treacherous and turbulent Black Hand Building, he was like a phoenix with its tail feathers set ablaze, moving forward without stopping.

At an almost insane speed, he charged forward along the predetermined path without the slightest slackening or pause, his mind filled with the heavy mission, as if a raging fire was burning in his heart, driving him to charge forward recklessly.

"Ah, I've worked so hard and diligently."

Jiang Shinian's booming voice echoed through the still night, as if time itself had frozen, carrying a hint of self-mockery, a touch of melancholy, and a sigh of helplessness at the turmoil of his own fate.

The sound, like an invisible ripple, caused the red light in the eyes of the shadowy ninja beside him, whose figure was hidden in the darkness like a ghost of the night, to suddenly flash, like two candle flames suddenly lit in the dark night, revealing a trace of tension and a trace of guilt.

At this moment, it felt as if a bottle of mixed emotions had been spilled in its heart.

Previously, it had only served as a coordinate, but by mistake and unforeseen circumstances, it led its master into that awkward and embarrassing women's bathhouse, which was not its intention at all.

At that time, all it hoped for was to find a safe and peaceful place so that its owner could rest and calmly observe the changing situation. Little did it know that fate would play such a cruel trick on it.

Such good intentions have backfired, drastically deviating from the intended course. Now, all we can hope for is that things will go smoothly from here on out, making up for the mistakes we made and allowing our master's grand ambitions to proceed smoothly.

Jiang Shinian resembled a wise statue lost in thought, gazing at the narrow passage leading to the real world.

That gaze was as if it were scrutinizing a mysterious door leading to an unknown destiny, deep and far-reaching.

After a long period of contemplation, it was as if a pebble had been thrown into the lake of his heart, creating ripples, as he recited the hidden, obscure, and little-known divine power contained in the snake talisman.

In an instant, it was as if a transparent, flawless, and gossamer-thin veil was gently shrouding its body. The once majestic and domineering dragon body gradually disappeared into nothingness, like ice and snow meeting the warm sun, just like a ghost merging into the deep night.

From then on, even when traversing this bustling world, it is not afraid of the sharp, ever-watchful eyes of human satellites, which are like eagle eyes. It can skillfully avoid many unwarranted variables and stay away from those unexpected disturbances, as if it has put on an invisible armor, and quietly sneaks around in this world full of dangers.