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... p>

the wind parting to give it passage,

as if the world itself allowed the arrow to dig into an old wound.

"Hmm..." Lilith smirked—half amused, half threatening.

"A natural-born Hunter’s arrow, huh?"

Her fingers touched the shaft of the arrow before it touched her—

then—tap!

as if it were nothing but a mosquito interrupting meditation,

the arrow was swatted aside and disintegrated into dusts of memory

before it could reach her sk ...

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