The accumulated strain finally made itself known.
Jason slipped another heavy straight from the ice elf and answered with a tight combination to the body, but the edges of his movements had begun to dull by fractions. Not enough to open clear vulnerabilities.
Not enough to lose exchanges. Just enough for him to notice. He had been moving from one fight to the next without meaningful pause—higher creatures, linked entities, and now this relentless frost opponent. The body kept performing. The mind stayed sharp. Yet the deep reserves of pure physical endurance were no longer untouched.
He could have ended the purely physical approach at any moment. Magic remained available. The Marrow's authority sat ready beneath his skin. He simply had not chosen that path yet. Part of him still preferred to measure opponents with fists and timing before resorting to overwhelming force.
Something about the current fight continued to feel wrong.
