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... tle was not looking good. As sweat beaded down her cheeks, Avila ignored it and nocked her bowstring back, aiming at the accursed. The foul creatures skittered along the barrier, ripples forming underneath their limbs as they climbed like spiders. Her radiant arrows met their marks and felled several accursed, forcing them off. Panting, Avila bit her lip, grimacing at what her internal clock informed her. That only an hour had passed. The others below couldn't see it, but from above on the highe ...
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