"Let's show him what we can do when we work together." Yoh held out his hand. In a flash of blinding spiritual energy, Amidamaru did not just fight alongside Yoh—he merged into Yoh’s antique sword. The blade grew to massive proportions, glowing with an intense, burning white light.
"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."
Manta watched from the sidelines, finally understanding the true power of his laid-back friend. Yoh Asakura's real strength wasn't his massive furyoku or his legendary samurai spirit. It was his heart. Shaman King
Ren stared at the outstretched hand in utter disbelief. No one had ever shown him kindness after a battle. Slowly, hesitantly, the proud Tao heir took Yoh's hand.
Beside him, the spirit of a legendary 600-year-old samurai materialized, bowing low. "At your side, Master Yoh." "Let's show him what we can do when we work together
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.
Then, he heard it. A soft, melodic humming floating through the chilly evening air. "A spirit isn't a weapon, Ren," Yoh said
"W-with who?!" Manta squeaked, clutching his books to his chest. "There is nobody else here!"