"If I kept attacking with all my strength, about six hundred shots."
Looking at Pietro, Barton answered calmly, even though Pietro had already drawn his bow and aimed at him.
But Barton could tell at a glance that even if Pietro released the arrow, he would not hit either him or Natasha. With Pietro's strength, the two of them could dodge even if he shot at them.
Besides, if Pietro really wanted to hurt them, the two of them had no way to stop him. Why would he go to the trouble of drawing his bow and nocking an arrow?
In short, Barton and Natasha were completely at a loss. Pietro turned around and shot toward the woods behind them, the black arrow perfectly concealing itself in the darkness.
With a soft thump, a small tree forty meters away trembled slightly. An arrow had struck the center of its trunk, its head buried deep inside.
"Not bad. If you put a little more strength into drawing the bow and adjusted the angle of your right hand, the arrow could have gone straight through."
Even under the moonlight, the woods remained dim. Wanda had not even seen where the arrow was, yet Barton, standing twenty meters behind them, could describe it so clearly.
Pietro's face flushed slightly. After all, he had originally been aiming at another large tree five meters beyond that small one.
"I've seen your attacks on the battlefield. They're powerful."
Pietro turned around, forcefully tossed the recurve bow in his hand, and sent it straight into Barton's hands.
At the same time, he threw over the quiver as well.
Barton reached out and caught the quiver, instinctively slinging it over his back. At this point, however, he was somewhat confused about Pietro and Wanda's intentions.
Natasha's expression also