The boy finally looked at him, his dark eyes brimming with a calm, effortless warmth. "Sure there are. Look closer."

Yoh didn't want the power to rule. He just wanted to create a world where he could listen to music and live a carefree, peaceful life. But peace was a luxury the shaman world rarely afforded.

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.

"You're... you're a shaman!" Manta gasped, his voice cracking.

Then, he heard it. A soft, melodic humming floating through the chilly evening air.

"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!"

Ren lay on the ground, defeated but unharmed. He looked up at Yoh, waiting for the finishing blow. Instead, Yoh deactivated his Oversoul, smiled, and offered the boy a hand.