Shamans were extremely sensitive when it came to combat. Some of the other shamans had initially assumed it was merely two children fooling around and had not paid much attention.
However, the moment they saw the arrows embedded in the tree, they instantly understood the power of the bow and arrows.
"What is that thing in your hand?" a spirit shaman asked Yan.
"Bow and arrows," Yan replied blankly. He, too, was stunned by their marvel.
"Bow and arrows?" The spirit shaman snatched the bow and arrows from Yan's hands.
Imitating what Yan had just done, he nocked a wooden arrow and slowly drew the bow.
It was not that the bow's draw was too strong for him, but that it was far too fragile in his hands.
He was afraid he would snap it with a single pull.
When he felt the bow had reached the limit of its tension, he released it.
The arrow streaked through the air and, with a thud, sank into the tree trunk once more.
Compared to Yan's arrow, the one fired by the spirit shaman had nearly pierced through the entire trunk.
"How is this thing made?" the spirit shaman turned and asked the two of them.
"Like this." This time, Man had learned her lesson. She knew that explaining might not be useful.
She gathered another set of materials and personally made another bow, placing it before the spirit shaman.
Watching the way she crafted the bow and arrows, the spirit shaman's eyes flew wide open.
With this method, it seemed even ordinary tribespeople could make them!
The instant this occurred to him, he immediately dragged the two children to the tribe's chief.
He was a tall, burly great shaman whose entire body was crimson, with red scales, red hair, and red