In a Fantasy World as Cannon Fodder, I Got Entangled with the Heroine - Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Duan Yuqing’s Crushing Defeat

Translation by: Weebsread👹

“Whoosh—!”

A Third rank demonic beast barreled toward the Spirit boat, reckless and unafraid. But before it even came within ten meters, flames erupted across its body.

In the blink of an eye, it was reduced to nothing more than a charred husk—a “roast chicken.”

On the deck, Jiang Zixuan flicked her wrist. The fire flickered out, vanishing instantly from her palm.

Yet the other demonic beasts hesitated for neither fire nor death. They swarmed forward, unleashing a barrage of attacks on the Spirit boat.

But—

Every strike slammed uselessly into a towering wall of ice.

The Chenjin Lightfeather Bird beat its wings, conjuring a furious tornado that howled toward the ice barrier.

Boom!

The impact shattered the wall. Shards of ice glittered as they spun through the air.

“Whoosh—!”

The Thunderflame Skywing Eagle burst from the floating debris, releasing a blazing ball of thunderfire that struck the Chenjin Lightfeather Bird dead center.

Outmatched by a Sixth-rank demonic beast, the Lightfeather Bird never stood a chance.

The rest of the demon horde fared even worse. The Thunderflame Skywing Eagle dove into their midst like a wolf in a flock of sheep, tearing through the ranks with ruthless efficiency.

In moments, the sky had been cleared—no aerial beasts remained.

As if nothing had happened, the Thunderflame Skywing Eagle swooped down, gathered up several demon carcasses, and vanished back into the Beastmaster’s Ring.

With the skies secure, the demonic beasts below still surged against the walls of Ercheng.

All the glory just now had gone to Jiang Qian. 

At last, it was my turn to shine. Time to show little junior sister what I’m made of.

With that thought, Duan Yuqing leaped gracefully from the Spirit boat, landing lightly amidst the chaos below.

His swordsmanship was dazzling—each slash and thrust imbued with a trace of that fabled sword immortal aura.

Meanwhile, Jiang Qian and the others leapt down from the ship onto the city wall.

A middle-aged man with hair just beginning to grey hurried forth, eyes shining with relief. “You must be the Azure Mountain Sect disciples! I’ve been longing for your arrival day and night.”

Jiang Qian offered a polite nod. “You must be Lord Huang, the City Lord. I am Jiang Qian, Chief Disciple of the Azure Mountain Sect. This is Bai Piaoxue, our Young Sect Mistress, and Jiang Zixuan, our Holy Maiden.”

He gestured below. “And the one fighting on the ground—that’s our Holy Son, Duan Yuqing.”

At that, Hu Murui puffed her cheeks in protest. “Brother Jiang! Why didn’t you introduce me?”

“My mistake—how could I forget? This is Hu Murui, Young Sect Mistress of the Beast Taming Sect.”

“Beast Taming Sect?” Huang Pan repeated, puzzled that their Young Mistress should be here. He was about to inquire further when a figure strode over.

The newcomer wore full armor and radiated a cold, hardened aura—a presence only forged in the crucible of battle. He cast a dismissive glance over the group, then fixed his gaze on the horde below.

“Just a gaggle of kids?” His tone was icy. “Let’s hope you don’t become a burden.”

“Hey! What did you just say?!” Hu Murui, normally all sweetness around Jiang Qian, snapped at once, temper flaring.

She was ready to retort further when Jiang Qian calmly raised a hand to stop her.

“All right, that’s enough.”

Since Jiang Qian intervened, Hu Murui swallowed her words—though she shot the armored man a glare, face filled with indignation.

Huang Pan leaned in and spoke quietly, “That man is a true late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator—a seasoned veteran.”

“What’s his name?”

“Chen Changfeng.”

Chen Changfeng... If memory serves, he’s one of King of Qin Chen Shimin’s backers. And his real name isn’t even Chen Changfeng—it’s Li Changfeng. The imperial surname “Chen” was an honor, granted by the Emperor himself.

Jiang Qian gave Chen Changfeng a glance before turning away.

Soon, the last of the attacking demonic beasts were dealt with. Duan Yuqing returned, springing lightly onto the city wall.

He strode over to Jiang Zixuan, eyes shining with hope, clearly awaiting her praise. “Junior Sister—how was that?”

Jiang Zixuan, who stood beside Jiang Qian, was about to respond, when a cold voice cut in:

“Hmph. You only killed a few low-tier demonic beasts. What’s there to brag about?” Chen Changfeng sneered, thoroughly unimpressed.

Duan Yuqing stiffened, stepping up to the armored general, eyes cold. “Oh? Do you think you’re strong enough to talk down to me? Want to put it to the test?”

“A duel? Hah! It looks like the demonic beasts won’t be back for a while. I might as well humor a brat like you.” Chen Changfeng snorted, turning and leaping down from the city wall.

Suppressing his fury, Duan Yuqing followed close behind.

Jiang Qian, who never missed a good spectacle, grinned and strolled after them.

The three girls exchanged a glance, then trailed behind.

Within a corner of Ercheng’s barracks, Duan Yuqing and Chen Changfeng faced one another atop the Dueling Arena.

A heartbeat later, Duan Yuqing lunged, sword flashing toward Chen Changfeng.

Chen Changfeng’s hands gripped his spear, his movements shifting—swift and serpentine, carried by the instinct of a true combat veteran.

With effortless skill, Chen Changfeng parried each strike, his counters as sharp as they were ruthless.

“General, you’re invincible! Victory to the General!”

“Hmph, just a brat. Think he can beat our General?”

“He might be the Azure Mountain Sect’s Holy Son, but our General won’t lose to some upstart!”

The soldiers crowded around the platform, cheering their commander with raucous confidence.

Jiang Zixuan leaned in toward Jiang Qian, her voice low. “Jiang Qian, do you think Senior Brother Duan stands a chance?”

Jiang Qian shook his head. “Hard to say.”

But in his heart, he knew: Duan Yuqing had almost no chance. Even with the divine body’s gifts, Duan Yuqing hadn’t yet mastered its power. In terms of both cultivation and battle experience, he was still a step behind Chen Changfeng.

And as expected, Duan Yuqing was driven back, step by step, beneath the older man’s relentless assault.

Soon enough, Duan Yuqing was teetering on the edge of the platform, struggling to turn the tide.

But before he could muster a counter, a sudden kick from Chen Changfeng sent him flying across the stage. A cold spear tip pressed against his throat.

Chen Changfeng’s voice was frosty. “You’ve lost. A brat is still just a brat.”

He withdrew his spear.

Duan Yuqing sat where he’d fallen, the soldiers’ laughter and scorn echoing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow him whole.

Never before had he felt such humiliation.

Clenching his fists in shame, he glared up at Chen Changfeng, then slunk back to his companions, face burning.

Chen Changfeng now turned his gaze on Jiang Qian. He raised his right hand and pointed directly at him. “Your turn. Step up and spar with me.”

“Me?” Jiang Qian blinked as if caught off-guard.

Wait, what? I came to watch the show, not take the stage...

“That’s right. You’re the Azure Mountain Sect’s Chief Disciple, are you not? I’d like to see how much skill this ‘senior’ really has.” Though Chen Changfeng’s tone was calm, his words carried a provocative edge.

The soldiers encircling the platform began to jeer and shout.

“Hey, hey! Don’t tell us the renowned Chief Disciple of the Azure Mountain Sect is scared?”

“If the Holy Son lost, how could the ‘Chief Disciple’ dare step up?”

“Exactly! Hahaha!”

The laughter and taunts grew louder.

Left with no way out, Jiang Qian could only steel himself and walk up to the stage.