Trom pressed his advantage, moving with lightning speed. In the blink of an eye, he appeared near Onassis.
Carrying a thick, bloody stench in his wake, clothes snapping in the wind, Trom threw a punch at Onassis.
Onassis neither dodged nor evaded, allowing Trom's punch to strike his body. Joy flashed through Trom's eyes. Onassis was not of the Bloodline side; with his current physical constitution, there was no way he could withstand this blow!
However, something strange happened the next second.
Just as Trom's fist was about to touch Onassis's skin, a golden halo blocked Trom's power. Trom felt as though he had struck a soft, yielding shield. The force he had gathered not only failed to harm Onassis, but instead condensed into a mass and rebounded entirely upon Trom.
The instant Trom sensed something was wrong, his hands immediately transformed into beastly shapes. His hands, now deer hooves, shed most of the rebounding force.
Even so, Trom was still sent flying.
While airborne, Trom finally regained his balance and brought his body back under his own control.
When he looked at Onassis now, there was an added measure of deliberation in his gaze. He had clearly sensed no energy fluctuations from Onassis just now—so how had that golden halo appeared?
Was it an instant-cast trick? Was there a defensive spell in his spell slot?
Trom could not quite make sense of it, but this was not the time to think. He intended to try again. Though Trom had thrown a punch at Onassis earlier, he had not truly used the power of his bloodline. This time, he planned to add bloodline power to it.
Though many thoughts had raced through Trom's mind, to outsiders, he showed no hesitation after being blasted away and immediately launched a second wave