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... itize shooting the militia hurling clay pots. On the city walls, a Tarasco militiaman, fervently shouting the name of his god, raised a clay pot high, ready to smash it down. Then several feathered arrows "swooshed" in, striking him from top to bottom. The militiaman violently jerked backward, no longer able to lift the clay pot filled with lime, which then silently slid off.
Behind him, several fellow villagers, pale with fright, didn’t hesitate to push fiercely from behind. The fervent ...
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