MN - 1 - Kick Dodge

But where was Cerant now? The ring was small, nowhere to hide...

“Behind me,” Art muttered, and leapt straight up, just as a reaping kick from behind came in, fast enough to make the air whistle. It would have been enough to hamstring a man, perhaps break his leg, had it connected – but Art wasn’t there. He turned a somersault in midair, twisting like a cat. There was his opponent, off balance and out of position, trying to recover from the missed kick.

“Art! Lean! Art! Lean!” the crowd roared again.

Art landed in a crouch.