Released the string

"Wait for me a moment," Ryoshu called out, his voice steady and commanding.

In his hands, he clutched three bows of varying designs, each bearing unique marks of craftsmanship and a spear that gleamed ominously in the fading light.

These weapons were not his own; he had scavenged them from the battlefield moments ago. The skirmish had left the ground strewn with the remnants of combat—broken shields, shattered blades, and discarded bows. Ryoshu had moved swiftly through the chaos, his eyes scanning for anything valuable amidst the debris.

He couldn't help but smirk as he thought, 'The rules don't forbid using other people's weapons, right? Haha.'

Exploiting this loophole amused him, and he relished the thought of turning his spoils into an advantage.

Determined and persistent, Ryoshu could have spent more time.

"Fumiya," he called out with unwavering authority. His voice echoed slightly in the still air, summoning his loyal companion.

"I know you can do this. Swallow these three bows
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