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.