My experience against Septimii in the Theatre serves me well here; this was a common enough tactic of theirs, even if they weren’t actually trying to kill me. I dance to the side, unbalancing the Sextus as he adjusts, then at the last second dive in the opposite direction, barely under a swing that would have removed my head. I twist as he stumbles past, punching him with all my strength in the kidney. It’s like punching stone.

He feels it; I can tell from the way he gasps, falters. That lasts for less than a moment.

He growls. Still facing away from me. Aims a punch at the wall in front of him.

It explodes outward, showering debris downward.

Then he’s spinning. Moving like I didn’t touch him, like he didn’t just slam his fist through stone that’s three-foot thick. Coming at me again, this time more deliberately. Trying to pin me against one of the edges of the tower. I can hear the rushing of the river far below.

The Sextus isn’t imbuing anything, despite there being plenty of rubble lying around: he’s either not skilled enough, or it will take too long. That’s my one advantage at the moment.

The Will of the Many Chapter 72