A demon. Scott had actually transformed into a demon.
The smell of sulfur spread as countless tiny scales began to emerge across his skin, covering it like fish scales and making him look even more vicious. Everyone felt an urge to kill him and be done with it. Demons were universally reviled. Had it not been for his concern over Jaina, Uther would already have charged forward and cut Scott down.
Arthas had lost. The outcome brought shock to the previously composed faces of Uther and the others. Scott was certainly strong, but there was still a gap between him and Arthas. Scott was at Mid-Ninth Rank, while Arthas was at late Ninth Rank. The difference in their levels was plain to see.
A battle that should have been a guaranteed victory had ended in defeat. It was wholly unexpected. Arthas stumbled back several steps, resentment showing in his eyes. Without another word, he withdrew with an icy expression. He was not a sore loser. A loss was a loss. Only a clown would keep roaring after knowing he had been beaten.
Scott made no attempt to pursue Arthas as he withdrew, simply allowing him to leave. The two looked as though they had engaged in a friendly spar, as if they had been friends for years. But that was only appearances. Given the chance, Scott would absolutely have finished Arthas with a single stroke of his axe. Yet Scott would not do that-or rather, he could not. Uther and the other Hero Rank experts were not there for decoration.
Uther could tolerate Arthas losing, but he would not tolerate Arthas dying.
Scott's eyes were blood-red, even his pupils swallowed by the crimson. His bare body was covered in pitch-black scales, and a nauseating sulfurous odor constantly poured from him.