Richard had seen this attack too—his foresight had shown him both the first strike and this follow-up. He pivoted smoothly, dodging with minimal wasted movement, the blade passing harmlessly through the space he'd occupied a moment before.
"SHADOW STEP!"
Attack from the right. Richard dodged, his movements unhurried because he had five full seconds to react to each strike.
"SHADOW STEP!"
Attack from above. Dodge.
"SHADOW STEP!"
Attack from below, blade sweeping up toward Richard's legs. Dodge.
"SHADOW STEP! SHADOW STEP! SHADOW STEP!"
Attacks kept coming, each one from a different angle, each one telegraphed five seconds in advance, each one dodged with what looked like casual ease.
But careful observation would have revealed something Richard hadn't noticed yet.
The comfortable margin he'd had—two full feet of clearance on that first dodge—was shrinking.
Two feet became eighteen inches.
Eighteen inches became one foot.
One foot became six inches.
