A quick word about today's schedule: after this chapter, there will be another update at midnight, making three updates today. The fourth was originally scheduled for early tomorrow morning, but since tomorrow is Saturday and six is too early for anyone to be reading, I moved it to eight. It had to be said that the gap between Rex and Scott was enormous. Relying on his own strength alone, Rex was nowhere near a match for Scott in demon form.
Overcoming finesse with brute force only worked when the gap between the two sides was not too great. If their strength differed too much, even Rex's tremendous power would be useless.
In his demon form, Scott was already infinitely close to Hero Rank. This was Azeroth, not some fictional world where defeating opponents above one's rank was an everyday occurrence. To accomplish that, one needed a truly exceptional weapon. Was the heavy sword in Rex's hands a divine artifact?
Clearly not. It merely had a fair amount of weight to it. In every other respect, it could not even be called sharp.
Defeating Scott as he was now with that heavy sword was unrealistic. At most, Rex's monstrous strength allowed him to instantly kill opponents weaker than himself or at the same rank, or to fight someone like Arthas, who was in the late stages of the Ninth Rank. Against someone like Scott, who had already begun to form his own soul pressure, his strength could no longer display such overwhelming power.
Rex's body erupted with power like explosives blasting apart a mountain. Muscles surged all over his body as he swung his heavy sword high, producing a sound like a powerful bow or crossbow being fired. The explosive sounds of it tearing through the air rang out without pause,