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Another day.
The sun rose in the east.
In the horse field, Liszt shouted, “Multiple Phantom Arrow!”
Six arrows emitted a fierce whooshing noise as they chased one another in the sky, colliding in an instant, then scattering in disarray, without formation.
Only two arrows had struck the target a hundred meters away.
“Failure,” he shook his head. It was the expected result — another failure. His current level of archery was not sufficie ...
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