Reincarnation Of The Strongest Spirit Master-Chapter 1396: You Are Finally Here!

William leapt onto the roof of a half-collapsed townhouse to survey the burning horizon. And I can't reach them through the static of ten thousand screams. I need to announce my presence in a way that can be seen from the walls to the palace. I need a signal they can't ignore.

He knew exactly what to do. His second major technique was as loud as it was lethal. It was a signature of his power—an expanding sphere of pure, compressed void that would act as a lighthouse for his allies and a death sentence for his foes.

Without another moment of hesitation, William plunged his sword deep into the stone of the rooftop.

He began the intricate steps of the technique, his voice chanting the ancient incantations that channelled the raw, chaotic energy of his spiritual sea. The air around him began to warp and ripple, darkening until the sunlight was swallowed whole.

Then, he released it.

A fierce, world-shaking explosion rocked the city. A massive, expanding black orb erupted from his position, surging upward before detonating in a shockwave of indigo fire that could be seen for leagues.

The effect was instantaneous.

"The Guild Master!" "It's him! The Guild Master is here!" "William has returned!" "Kill him! Target the source of the blast!" "Rally to the centre! Gather toward the Guild Master!"

The city, which had been a disjointed mess of isolated slaughters, suddenly found its pulse. Thousands of voices erupted in unison.

For his allies, the explosion was a miracle—a sign that their leader had returned from the dead to lead them. For his enemies, it was a target, a terrifying reminder that the man who owned this city was no longer absent.

William stood his ground, a motionless statue at the centre of the storm. For nearly an hour, he didn't move from his position, acting as a fixed point in a turning world.

He watched as the streets below became a churning sea of steel. Friends and foes were inextricably mixed, fighting a desperate, swirling battle for every inch of pavement.

But whoever drew too close to William's central pillar met a swift end. His monsters acted as the ultimate filter, their claws and teeth paving a safe, wide path for his guild members to reach him while mercilessly shredding any intruder who tried to capitalise on the rally.

Slowly, the tide began to turn. What had been a scattered resistance began to solidify. Within that hour, William was no longer a lone warrior; he was the cornerstone of a fortress.

Tens of thousands of his guild masters and allies had fought their way to his side, forming a massive, disciplined phalanx in the heart of the ruins. They were surrounded by an even larger number of enemies, but the fear had shifted sides.

William looked out at the sea of loyal faces, then toward the bastions of the city still held by the invaders. He raised his sword, pointing it toward the horizon.

"Spread out," he commanded, his voice magically amplified to reach every ear in the plaza. "Cleanse the streets. Kill them all."

He released his monsters from their defensive circle, sending them outward like a pack of starving wolves. With his guild now unified and his beasts leading the charge, the reclamation of Lara's city had finally, truly begun.

Despite the localised slaughter and the terrifying efficiency of the fifty monsters, the tide of the enemy felt infinite. William stood atop a pile of rubble, his spirit sense extending toward the city's perimeter.

He could see the jagged gaps in the outer walls, the shattered remains of the once-impenetrable gates, and the smouldering husks of the defensive towers.

Yet, the sheer volume of masters flooding into the streets defied conventional military logic. This wasn't just an invading army; it was a deluge, a swarm that seemed to regenerate its numbers as quickly as they were cut down.

But the tactical mystery was quickly eclipsed by a more personal horror.

"You… you finally came back!"

The voice was ragged, cracking with the weight of exhaustion. William turned to see Anjie stumbling toward him through the crowd of rallying guild members. His heart sank at the sight of her.

She looked like a ghost of the vibrant warrior he knew. Her armour was a mosaic of dents and fractures, her hair was matted with dust and dried blood, and her skin was a map of shallow, angry lacerations.

Yet, as battered as Anjie was, she was in a state of grace compared to the figure behind her.

Lara was being carried on a makeshift stretcher, flanked by a phalanx of Fox Guild Black Tails. The elite masters looked grim, their eyes hollow. Lara herself was deathly pale, her eyes closed in a deep, unnatural unconsciousness.

The focal point of the horror was a gruesome, jagged wound sliced across her chest. It wasn't just deep; it was wrong. Even from a distance, William could see that the blood was fresh—vibrant and flowing as if the injury had been sustained seconds ago, rather than days.

"What happened?" William demanded, bridging the distance in a single, blurred step. He knelt beside the stretcher, his hands hovering over the injury. "How is she still bleeding like this? Did you not use the high-grade healing elixirs I left in the treasury? Where are the recovery salts?"

"We used everything," Anjie said, her face distorting with a pained, helpless grief. "We poured elixirs directly into the gash. We used regeneration charms, blood-stanching arrays… everything. But for some reason, it felt like we were pouring water into a bottomless pit. Nothing worked. Nothing even slowed it down."

William's eyes suddenly trembled, a dangerous, flickering light igniting in his pupils. He fell silent, his jaw tightening so hard the bone seemed ready to snap. Anjie swallowed the rest of her explanation, silenced by the sudden, suffocating pressure radiating from William.

In that moment, she—and every Fox Guild master within sight—felt a flicker of something they hadn't felt in three days: certainty.