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64 | Late Game 3

Arlo knew he was only seven years old. Just a month away from turning eight. Yet, he was certain he would become a great fighter. Like Serena and Jules. Like Kieran.

However, today, as he saw too many great fighters, far more dangerous than dead souls, Arlo wasn't so sure. He gripped his slingshot with trembling hands, desperately trying to calm himself, and aimed at anyone.

"Arlo!" Serena shouted. The girl was fighting off several witches attacking her. Arlo couldn't keep up with the swift movements with daggers and kicks and punches too fast, but he realized Serena was on the brink of exhaustion. "Take Kieran away from here!"

Arlo glanced anxiously at Kieran, but Kieran remained seated, trying to staunch his wound.

"I'll stay here, Serena, don't worry about me," Kieran said. His face was pale from blood loss. "Arlo, I don't want you here. Go to safety!"

As much as Arlo wanted to flee from this chaotic situation, he disliked the idea of leaving just because he was weak and useless. I
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