Reincarnation Of The Strongest Spirit Master-Chapter 1388: It’s a Trap, As Expected!

Becky’s fingers trembled slightly, a reflexive twitch she quickly suppressed. "Okay..." she murmured, the word feeling heavy and inadequate. Everything in her screamed to argue, to insist that her power was an asset, not a liability.

She was a master in her own right, yet as she looked at William’s profile—etched in grim, immovable determination—a cold realisation stayed her tongue. If she moved now, she wouldn’t be his partner; she would be a hurdle he had to jump over.

With a swallow of bitter pride, she anchored herself. She became a statue amidst the rushing wind of the riverbank, her presence a fixed point in the chaos about to unfold.

William didn’t waste a heartbeat on a farewell. He opened the engagement with the practised brutality of a general. With a flick of his will, his monsters surged forward—a tide of nightmare and sinew.

The battlefield was bisected by the churning, wide berth of the river, with enemy encampments bristling like hornet nests on both banks. William split his forces with mathematical precision, sending two equal torrents of monstrous fury to greet the waiting armies.

The silence of the valley was shattered instantly.

"They are here!" a scout screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of sudden terror. "Get ready! To your positions!" "Activate the formation! Now! Now!"

The air hummed with the sudden ignition of spiritual energy. Through his own spirit sense, William could hear the frantic coordination of the enemy masters. They had been waiting for him. The spiritual pressure in the air spiked as defensive arrays began to glow beneath the soil, weaving a net of hostile intent across the terrain.

"It’s a trap, as expected," William said. His voice was casual, almost bored, lacking any hint of the adrenaline that usually fueled a warrior. He didn’t slow his pace. He didn’t adjust his trajectory. He simply walked into the mouth of the beast, his monsters clearing a path of gore and broken bone ahead of him.

But his eyes weren’t on the foot soldiers. They were scanning the periphery, looking for the shadow behind the curtain. Let’s see where you are, bastard, he thought. He knew his true target—Becky’s treacherous ex—wouldn’t be standing in the front lines like a common grunt. A man like that thrived in the dark, tucked away behind layers of deception.

William reached out through their mental link, sending a sharp, commanding message to Becky. Scan the area. Every inch. Spot any gathering of energy that feels out of place. Find the hidden pockets.

He knew the enemy was likely utilising advanced stealth formations, the kind that could fool the naked eye and even dull the edge of spirit sense. The only way to flush a rat from a hole was to flood the hole.

Becky, feeling a surge of relief at finally having a purpose, didn’t hesitate. She began to channel her essence, her hands moving in fluid, rhythmic motions as she prepared to carpet the area with wide-scale techniques.

She understood the assignment: concealment formations were like glass—they were invisible until something struck them. Her job was to provide the impact.

As Becky’s attacks began to rain down—great shimmering waves of force that peeled back the illusions of the landscape—William watched the reaction of the enemy. It was clear the bastard had prepared for her.

There were multiple layers of defensive arrays reinforcing the cloaking spells, and more importantly, there were decoys. Dozens of upper-realm masters were pulsing their energy in synchronised patterns, mimicking the signature of the primary target to create a hall of mirrors for William’s monsters.

It confirmed William’s suspicion: the enemy feared Becky’s lineage and her specific techniques. He had built his entire defensive web to counter her, never imagining that the true predator in this valley was the master from the lower realm.

William’s expression remained a mask of indifference, but internally, he was calculating. He hadn’t told Becky the full truth. He wasn’t just asking her to search; he was using her as the most exquisite bait in existence. He was the shadow, and she was the light meant to draw the moth to the flame.

The battle reached a fever pitch. William moved through the fray like a reaper. He was a whirlwind of efficiency, but he was holding back. He spared his enchanted arrows and kept his flying weapons sheathed in his spiritual sea.

Even his signature dash technique remained unused. Instead, he employed a new, devastating technique he had recently devised—a method of compressed spiritual displacement that caused his targets to implode before they could even scream.

Explosion after explosion rocked the riverbanks. The "masters" of the upper realm were being slaughtered at an alarming rate, falling like wheat before a scythe. William’s monsters were unstoppable, tearing through the enemy ranks as if they were fighting toddlers.

Yet, throughout the carnage, William kept a fraction of his monsters circled tightly around Becky. They were her silent guardians, ready to intercept any strike the moment the "bastard" showed his face. William waited for that specific ripple in the air, the moment the enemy would dash out to kidnap his prize.

Half an hour passed. The river ran red, and the screams had begun to die down into wet gurgles.

It seems he won’t show himself easily, William thought, a small sigh escaping him. He had hoped the enemy’s obsession with Becky would make him reckless, but the man was more disciplined than he’d credited. It seemed the enemy had identified William as the primary threat, choosing to observe and wear him down before making a move for the girl.

William surveyed the decimated battlefield. He realised then that he had likely been under observation from the very moment his boots touched this soil.

William didn’t pause his slaughter, nor did he break the rhythmic cycle of his strikes, but his mind moved leagues ahead of the carnage. He surveyed the geography of the riverbank, the specific alignment of the mountain peaks, and the way the spiritual energy was pooling into the earth rather than dissipating.