With no enemy nearby, Jon stopped to catch his breath for a short moment. With the adrenalin wearing off, the exhaustion started setting in. Even with the life drain enchantment, his limbs felt heavy, and he was feeling quite winded. Despite his nearly inhuman physique, the sheer amount of flesh, bone and metal he had to cut through was exhausting, even with his sharp spellblade. Not to mention he had pushed his reflexes and speed to the limit, which was taxing by itself. So many were killed by his blade that his armour was almost fully painted red by blood, and his sword was now crimson. Ghost silently trotted to him. His direwolf wasn't much different – his fur was no longer pure white but almost entirely covered in mud and blood.