Lucas did not slow.
Each movement flowed into the next, his control tightening even as the intensity of his attacks rose, fire bending to his will with increasing precision. What had begun as a sudden counter had now turned into a sustained assault, one that refused to give Dravok the space he needed to regain full control of the battlefield.
But beneath the surface of that aggression, Lucas was thinking.
He could feel it clearly now.
The strain.
Not just on himself, but on Dravok as well.
Every defense the Celestial put up, every counter he attempted to form, every shift in his stance carried a cost. It was small, almost negligible for someone at that level, but Lucas could sense it, the subtle drain that came with maintaining such overwhelming power over the environment.
And Lucas…
Was different.
