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Granny raised her bow. With a sharp exhale, she released. The arrow didn't just pierce the nearest invader; it glowed with a faint, ethereal light. Upon impact, the slime hissed and evaporated into a foul-smelling mist.

The sky over the village of Oakhaven didn’t turn black from clouds; it turned black from the tide. But it wasn’t water. It was a viscous, obsidian ooze—the Slime Invaders had arrived.

Granny handed the girl a single, shimmering arrow. "I’ll draw their fire. You have to hit the center. Don't aim for where it is—aim for where it’s going to be."