Ludwig sidestepped without effort, barely a pivot of his foot, and Redd's slash carved only dust.
Another slash came. And another. Wide arcs of wild fury. Each one missed Ludwig by inches—deliberate inches.
Ludwig didn't flinch. He didn't retreat.
He walked.
A single, lazy step. Then another.
For him, after having fought-no, survived a godlike being, the movement of such a 'beast' was like that of a toddler to Ludwig's trained eyes.
He moved inside the arc of Redd's swing and gently tapped the underside of Redd's elbow with two fingers, throwing off his balance. Redd stumbled forward and snarled, catching himself with a ground-pounding claw.
"Stand still!" he roared.
"I am," Ludwig replied, softly.
Redd leapt again, rage boiling. His claws swept outward in a flurry of diagonal attacks—slashes fueled by witchcraft, by [Carnophage] power, limbs no longer bound by human motion.
