At that critical moment, Amon suddenly lunged to one side. His body nearly scraped past the spear tip, like a startled snake slithering beneath a blade. Though the spear did not pierce straight through him, it still sliced across his back, leaving a long wound.
The wound was charred black, its edges curled as though scorched by lightning. No blood flowed out. The blood vessels around it seemed to have been sealed by something, leaving only burnt flesh peeling back to expose the dark red, seared tissue beneath.
An invisible force coiled around the wound, suppressing Dragon Blood's regenerative power and preventing the injury from healing anytime soon.
Amon reacted the instant he hit the ground. Planting his right hand against the floor, he sprang back up like a compressed spring, steadying himself with a forward flip. He drew the pistol from his waist and, without even taking aim, fired three shots. The bullets tore through the air with piercing whistles, flying straight at Odin's face.
But it was useless.
The bullets stopped a foot in front of Odin, as if they had struck an invisible wall. The air there warped slightly. The three bullets hung suspended for an instant, then fell soundlessly to the floor with three crisp clinks.
The Elder in Tang Suit, carrying a rocket launcher, fired. The rocket streaked from the barrel trailing white flames, howling toward Odin—only to be detonated midair. A powerful current burst from Odin's body, blue arcs twisting and branching through the air like an upside-down tree as they struck the rocket with perfect precision.
The blast erupted through the living room, heat rushing toward them and sending everything inside tumbling askew. Shrapnel scattered everywhere. Some pieces embedded themselves in the ceiling, some nailed into the walls, and some grazed past Amon's