"The weak have no right to exist in the upcoming tournament, Yoh Asakura," Ren spat, raising his Guan dao polearm. "Power is everything. Friendship is a delusion for the fragile!"
Beside him, the spirit of a legendary 600-year-old samurai materialized, bowing low. "At your side, Master Yoh." Shaman King
Manta rubbed his eyes and screamed. Floating in the air around the boy were dozens of translucent, glowing figures—samurai, monks, and ancient travelers, all smiling warmly. "The weak have no right to exist in
"A spirit isn't a weapon, Ren," Yoh said softly, taking a relaxed combat stance. "He's my friend. And as long as we trust each other, our power has no limits." " Ren spat
Then, he heard it. A soft, melodic humming floating through the chilly evening air.