Reincarnation Of The Strongest Spirit Master-Chapter 1389: The Scary Formation!

If he follows this path, then the next logical step will be... He didn’t finish the thought aloud. He didn’t need to. He could read the architecture of the coming trap as clearly as a scholar reads a primer.

Yet, in a display of chilling confidence, he didn’t take a single step to fortify his position or retreat. He simply continued to kill, waiting for the conductor of this macabre symphony to take the podium.

Another hour bled away. The riverbanks were now a graveyard; nearly half of the enemy masters had been reduced to cooling corpses or scattered ash. It was then that the atmosphere curdled.

"Kekeke... you are really a very interesting fellow."

The voice didn’t come from a throat; it erupted like a clap of ominous thunder, vibrating in the marrow of William’s bones. It was a sinister, oily sound that seemed to saturate the very air. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"It’s him," William muttered. He didn’t bother turning his head or searching the ridgelines. He knew the bastard was using a sophisticated sound-displacement technique, weaving his voice into the natural resonance of the valley to remain a ghost.

"I wanted to stay and play, truly," the voice boomed again, dripping with mock regret. "But I’m running out of time. So, farewell! Enjoy your last dying moments. Resent me with everything you hold dear in your heart, young fellow! Let your hatred be the spice of your demise!"

As the last word echoed, the world broke.

The sky, once a bruised purple of twilight, underwent a violent transformation, swirling into a sickly, bruised crimson. Thunder rumbled not from the clouds, but from the bowels of the earth.

The ground began to heave and buckle. Across the river, the remaining enemy masters—the very men who had been fighting to the death moments ago—suddenly froze. They didn’t look at William; they looked at the sky and the shaking earth.

In a wave of pure, unadulterated panic, they turned and fled. They abandoned their formations, dropped their weapons, and sprinted for the high ground. William watched them go, wondering briefly if they had known the price of their service all along, or if some final, desperate warning had finally reached their minds. Regardless, they knew what was coming.

William remained stationary. He looked up at the bleeding heavens, a faint, mocking smile touching his lips. "Making the ground change is a common parlour trick," he said, his voice carrying clearly through the roar of the rising wind. "But making the sky dim to this degree? That is a remarkable feat of engineering."

"Speaking like a tough idiot who doesn’t realise he is meeting his funeral hour... What a fool!" The Ex’s voice returned, now tinged with a flicker of genuine irritation at William’s lack of terror.

Before William could offer a retort, the river—the great, wide vein of the valley—began to scream.

The water didn’t just rise; it transformed. The riverbed groaned as it deepened unnaturally, the stones grinding against one another with the sound of breaking teeth.

The clear mountain water thickened, darkening into a viscous, iron-scented torrent of pure blood. Then, like a colossal, primordial serpent waking from an aeon of slumber, the river began to twist.

Massive sections of the crimson water rose into the air, defying gravity, curling and deforming the landscape as they moved. The weight of the liquid suspended in the sky created a pressure that crushed the trees below.

William’s face was a mask of absolute serenity. To any observer, he would have looked like a man enjoying a stroll in a garden rather than a warrior standing at the epicentre of a cataclysm.

His calm was not a facade; it was the product of recognition. He was perhaps the only master in existence familiar with the intricacies of this specific grand formation.

He stepped onto a slab of granite that was currently "dancing"—lurching up and down as the tectonic plates shifted—and balanced himself with effortless grace. Nearby, his monsters ignored the rising blood-serpent.

They followed his previous command with singular focus, hunting down the fleeing masters and tearing them apart before they could reach the safety of the foothills.

"Ouch! Aside from that annoying, smug look on your face, you are just as ruthless as I am!" The Ex’s voice mocked, echoing off the rising walls of blood. "You won’t even let them run? You won’t let them fight for their lives against the disaster? What? Do you truly believe your little toys are more threatening than my grand catastrophe?"

William didn’t blink. He didn’t feel the need to justify his tactics to a dead man walking. Instead, he tilted his head back toward the cracked, crimson sky and released a command that cut through the cacophony of the collapsing world:

"Kill them all! Don’t let a single master live!"

A dark, booming laugh answered him. "I like you! It is so unfortunate for you that whoever I like, I kill! So let’s see how you’ll respond to my ultimate move... ARISE!"

The command shattered the last remnants of stability. The river’s body twisted into a grotesque spiral in front of William.

The surface of the blood-water began to crack like parched earth, and from those fissures, a foul, yellow pus began to ooze, mingling with the gore. The stench hit William like a physical blow—a rotting, ancient miasma of decay that would have made a lesser man retch.

William stood his ground, his eyes narrowed, but his feet planted firm. He knew the anatomy of this horror. He knew exactly what was about to burst forth.

The cracks in the liquid serpent spread like shattering glass. Then, with a sound like a world-ending heartbeat, the river broke.

A monstrous tsunami wave, composed of putrid blood, bone fragments, and the concentrated essence of a thousand curses, lunged forward. It wasn’t just a wave; it was a hungry, sentient wall of death, towering over the landscape, ready to swallow everything in its path.

"No matter what comes your way, hold onto the monster I sent you and do not move. At all."