"You cannot match the speed and accuracy of the Southern Steppe's archers."
That had been the first thing Milo told Erling when he began preparing for this contest two nights ago.
According to the archer from the Heartwood Clan, the sorcery of the Southern Steppe allowed them to predict not only the movements of their targets, but every gust of wind between them and their target, along with even the most chaotic movements of their prey.
It was a skill that went beyond leading a running target, and the accuracy it gave them wasn't only unmatched; it removed any trace of hesitation when they loosed their arrows.
"Can I learn to do the same?" Erling had asked, touching the book that Dirar had given him. "If I apply their techniques…"
