Then Viktor saw the floor.
A tiny piece of stone—knocked loose earlier when the knight's sword had cracked the ground—sat exactly where Viktor's foot had landed.
'It used Tactical Genius,' Viktor realized with growing horror. 'It tracked every piece of debris during the fight. Calculated where I'd dodge based on my movement patterns. Then PLACED that debris there during an earlier exchange.'
"You've got to be shitting me," Viktor gasped, switching his sword to his left hand. His right arm hung useless, shoulder screaming.
The wooden knight tilted its head. The motion was mechanical. Curious.
Like it was analyzing him.
Viktor's mind raced. 'Alright. Alright, think. I have the same abilities, but it's using them like a fucking chess computer. Calculating fifty moves ahead while I'm stuck thinking three steps at a time.'
'But I'm human. I can improvise. I can—'
The wooden knight blurred.
Speed Acceleration.
