My Whole Class Isekai'd to a Xianxia? Good Thing I Can Do Mind-reading-Chapter 252: Cannon Fodder

Seeing the cultivators from the Black Turtle Continent taking action, Feng Fan couldn’t help but grin. The chaos of battle had reached its peak, with blood splattering the ground and corpses piling up like broken dolls.

He glanced at the others, then cracked his knuckles.

"Little Brick, we can’t be left out of the fun, right?" he muttered, his grin widening.

With a flash, the Suppression Relic materialized in his hand, humming with happiness as it left his space ring. Feng Fan lunged forward, targeting the closest foreign cultivator to him.

Most of them were fleeing in panic from Xue Qiang’s brutal onslaught, like cornered rats scrambling for safety.

Feng Fan moved like a blur, his speed making him little more than a shadow across the battlefield. Before the unfortunate cultivator even knew what hit him, Feng Fan slammed the Suppression Relic down on his head, leaving behind a grotesque crunch.

Blood sprayed from the back of his skull as he dropped lifelessly to the ground.

Before Feng Fan could even wipe the blood from his weapon, a furious shout rang out.

"Bastard! I’ll kill you!"

A foreign cultivator came soaring through the air, his face twisted with rage and grief. Most likely, the dead man had been someone important to him. The newcomer’s sword shone with blinding light, and a massive spectral tiger roared to life behind him, its fangs bared and claws poised to rip apart its target.

Feng Fan didn’t even flinch. Instead, he lazily raised the Suppression Relic high, his expression filled with disdain.

The foreign cultivator swung his sword down with all his might, but the moment blade met relic, a crack echoed through the air.

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The foreign cultivator’s eyes widened in horror. "Impossible! This is a top Spiritual-grade artifact!"

Feng Fan tilted his head, giving the man a pitying look. "I hope your balls are higher grade than your sword, then."

The man’s confusion barely had time to register before a massive, hairy leg appeared behind Feng Fan. Stars shone in the air, forming constellations around the leg’s deadly arc.

Family Jewel Destroyer Kick!

A sound like a boulder being pulverized erupted from the cultivator’s groin, followed by a bone-chilling crack. The man’s scream died in his throat as spiritual qi surged from the impact point, ravaging his insides like a tsunami.

The foreign cultivator’s face turned pale, his eyes losing focus as agony overwhelmed his senses.

But before he could collapse, Little Brick shot forward like a meteor, smashing his skull apart. Blood sprayed like a fountain as the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Feng Fan exhaled slowly, wiping a few specks of blood from his face. He gave the corpse a disdainful glance and shook his head.

"It seems your balls weren’t any better than your sword," he said with a snort. "In your next life, try practicing the Iron Balls Technique."

"Fanfan."

A soft, yet firm voice rang out from behind him, cutting through the tension of battle. Feng Fan turned, and his gaze fell on Xue Qiang. She moved through the battlefield like a divine war goddess, her black robes stained with blood, yet her presence exuding a fierce, unshakable confidence.

Despite the chaos and carnage surrounding them, her expression remained serene and oddly gentle as her gaze settled on him.

She approached him with a warmth that seemed almost out of place amid the rivers of blood and mounds of broken bodies. It was as if she had walked straight out of a tranquil garden instead of wading through a massacre.

"Don’t go too far from me," she whispered, her voice surprisingly soft against the distant screams and clashing weapons. "I need to make sure you’re safe."

Feng Fan couldn’t help but smile bitterly. ’Is there really a need to worry so much about me?’ he thought. As confident as she was in his abilities, she still treated him like a delicate treasure to be guarded.

But he didn’t voice his doubts. Instead, he simply nodded. There was no point arguing with her when she got like this—protective, motherly, and a bit overbearing.

His gaze swept over the battlefield, looking at the foreign cultivators scattered like panicked rats. Their once-proud formation had disintegrated, and now they fought more like untrained bandits, each struggling alone to survive.

Xue Qiang’s ruthless onslaught had shattered their morale.

Yet, Feng Fan frowned, his thoughts racing even as the smell of blood thickened around them.

’This battle’s result might already be set in stone,’ he mused, ’but the war is far from over. The higher-ups must be considering the aftermath. There’s no way those foreign cultivators will hold up their end of the bargain, and the people from the Black Turtle Sect and Dao Seeking School aren’t foolish enough to overlook that. They must have other plans.’

—

Liao Cai’s face contorted in a twisted mask of fury as the counter displaying the current number of living participants from their side continued to plummet.

"Damn it!" he spat through gritted teeth. "Those bastards from the Black Turtle Sect must have played tricks!" His voice was venomous, but the accusation dripped with hypocrisy.

As if his own sect hadn’t used underhanded methods countless times before.

A man beside him, one of the other elders who had accompanied him, swallowed nervously before speaking. "Elder Liao, what should we do? If this continues... we’ll have no choice but to leave Red Pole. We’re losing people faster than we can count."

Liao Cai shot him a furious glare. "Are you an idiot?" he snapped. "We’ll go back. Too many of our people came here for nothing. We should return to the Azure Dragon Continent as soon as possible and start preparing for the real war."

Another elder, his face drenched in sweat, took a hesitant step forward, voice trembling. "B-But Elder Liao... Are we really going to abandon them? Just let them all die like that?"

He pointed at the counter that tracked the number of foreign cultivators still alive, making it clear whom he was referring to.

Liao Cai’s expression turned colder than ice, his lips curling into a sneer. "They’re just cannon fodder. If they’re too weak to survive, it’s their own fault for being useless. Why would I waste resources and effort to save them?"

He cast one final disdainful glance at the counter before turning away, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Let’s go. Now."

The other elders exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to voice their objections.