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It was an absolute massacre. Ryu didn't move a single step, he didn't move a single finger, he didn't even seem to breathe too hard. 

The beasts surging toward him hit a wall, their bodies shredding to pieces. Flesh, bone and blood fell from the skies, screeches of horror echoing through the landscape. 

Ryu took a step forward, his white robes fluttering, completely untouched by the mass of crimson. He didn't even seem to care what sort of beasts he had killed and which had managed to survive. He simply took out a bow, stepping through the skies with an indifferent expression on his handsome features. 

The bow was tall and bathed in fiery rubies. It was more than three meters tall from head to toe and had a bowstring forged of dragon tendon. Just touching it made the blood rush and roar through Ryu's veins, almost as though his Ancestors were ready to pounce and tear his weapon to shreds. 

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