"The seventh one."
Chen Fan's expression was indifferent, muttering to himself.
There are twenty-five left.
Shouts of battle surged, even from four or five hundred meters away, he could feel the earth shaking beneath his feet.
He activated "Aiming" with a thought.
His eyes quickly felt a gentle sensation, and within a radius of seven hundred meters, everything appeared in a different world.
Even the figures of the bandits galloping on horseback seemed like slow-motion scenes from a movie, their speed halved.
"Pa!"
A loud burst sounded.
Another arrow shot out.
The few bandits at the front raised their shields high, trying to block the arrow.
But unfortunately, the arrow wasn't aimed at them.
With a scream, someone fell off their horse, hit by the arrow.
"Bastard!"
The ones behind gritted their teeth in hatred.
"That bastard's bow must have a draw weight of at least two hundred pounds, otherwise, how could it shoot so far?"
