Reincarnation Of The Strongest Spirit Master-Chapter 1414: The Mighty Ancient Fortress

It was the central nerve centre where every trap was triggered, and every defensive formation was calibrated. It was also the fortress’s only true vulnerability—the place where the weak spots of the structural enchantments were anchored.

"Do you know what this is?" Becky asked, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and burgeoning dread. She looked from the looming walls to William, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Lara stepped forward, her chin lifted with unshakeable confidence. "There is nothing our William doesn’t know," she said, her tone ringing with pride. "He must have seen it somewhere in his studies. I bet he knows every secret, every ’in’ and every ’out’ of this thing."

"I wouldn’t dream of betting against that," Becky admitted, her eyes returning to the fortress. She had seen William pull miracles from thin air too many times to doubt Lara’s assessment.

William, however, didn’t share their outward bravado. A bitter, weary smile touched his lips.

"This is a lost architectural design from a vanished empire," he explained, noting that Becky didn’t recognise the name ’Lookman.’

"This represents the absolute pinnacle of their civilisation—the grandest design they ever conceived. The mighty Lookman’s Fortress. In the old legends, it was rumoured that no army in existence could breach these walls if the Lookman masters were the ones operating the defences."

Lara’s face paled, and she sucked in a sharp, cold breath. "Then... does that mean we don’t have a chance? If it’s unbreachable..."

"I’m sure there aren’t any Lookman masters left alive up there to man the stations," William said, shaking his head to dismiss her fear. He straightened his posture, his eyes locking onto the apex of the structure. "So this design, despite being remarkable and formidable, cannot stand against me."

He stood with the same calm, immovable grace he had displayed back at Lara’s city. Even here, deep within the heart of enemy territory, he was the eye of the storm.

Around them, the chaos of battle continued; his monsters had been unleashed, a tide of tooth and claw that tore through the endless stream of enemies attempting to swarm their position.

The reality of their situation was sobering. Having crossed the portal, they were now standing in the epicentre of a staggering military assembly.

A single glance revealed the scale of the threat: hundreds of thousands of enemy masters were gathered around the base of the fortress.

They stood in disciplined, terrifying ranks, surrounding the portal and waiting for their turn to be sent into the "slaughterhouse" back at Lara’s city.

Seeing the sheer mass of the opposing force, William felt a cold click of realisation. Fang had been right about the nature of this war. The enemy had designed this entire campaign as a brutal battle of attrition. It was a mathematical trap.

Even if William and his allies mobilised every soul from every battlefield across the continent, they could never match these numbers. And the most chilling part? William knew this was just the tip of the iceberg.

He could read the enemy’s true strategy as clearly as a map. They were baiting a trap.

The moment William’s side pulled enough masters from other territories to reinforce the city, the enemy would shift their tactics from attrition to a total, crushing offence.

With their superior numbers, they would overwhelm the weakened borders and claim half the continent in a single, bloody stroke.

Their path to victory had narrowed until it was little more than a fraying thread, vibrating under the weight of an entire world. William’s mind raced through the tactical permutations.

It wasn’t enough to simply thin the herd; he had to decapitate the beast. To win, he needed to bypass the rank-and-file soldiers and strike the leaders directly, leaving this massive, sprawling army headless and confused across the grand chessboard of the continent.

"Should we go back and bring more masters?"

The question came from Lara, her voice tight with the same grim realisation that had struck William. She wasn’t a strategist by trade, but the sheer wall of enemies before them dictated only one logical conclusion to her mind.

William didn’t hesitate, his voice low and firm. "No matter what we do, no master on our side can stop them," he said, rejecting the suggestion with a slow shake of his head. "If we call for aid, we are merely feeding the enemy’s design. It’s up to us to make a difference now. So, get ready—you are going to fight alongside me."

He wasn’t speaking out of bravado. He knew that if he dared to recall a single master from any other front, the entire defensive line of the alliance would crumble like dry parchment.

Even the reinforcements already diverted from Anjie’s fallen kingdom had stretched their resources to a breaking point, threatening the stability of the entire war effort. To ask for more help now would be equivalent to signing their own collective death warrant.

With a sharp intake of breath, William began his transformation. His human silhouette blurred and expanded as he shifted into his monstrous form, a terrifying visage of power that commanded the battlefield.

He drew his weapons in a fluid motion—his primary blades humming, his flying weapons hovering like loyal predators at his shoulders, and his quiver bristling with explosive arrows.

"Your task is to stop any enemy from passing through that portal, no matter what!" he shouted, his voice vibrating with the power of his transformed state.

He didn’t wait for a confirmation before dashing forward, a streak of lethal intent toward the enemy lines. "I’ll leave fifty of my monsters behind to assist you. Stand your ground and do not fret!"

Becky watched him go, a dry, nervous laugh escaping her throat as she rolled her eyes. "As if we have another option," she muttered. She reached into her gear, pulling out a handful of specialised explosive arrows and thrusting them toward Lara. "You know how to use these, right?"

Lara gripped the arrows, her eyes flashing with a cold, determined light. She recognised the craftsmanship immediately; these were William’s signature instruments of destruction.