Scott saw that he had lost and nodded.
"Yeah, I thought so."
He discarded his hand and removed his shirt, tossing it beside him on the floor. His upper body was covered in hard muscle, with his arms as thick as tree branches, his chest like an impenetrable wall, and a well-defined six pack over his stomach. It was clear that he was very, very strong. However, what leaped out the most was not his muscled physique.
From his sternum down to his waist were over one hundred healed scars, and there were many more that could not currently be seen. Some were small and others large, depending on the wound he had sustained. In the over one thousand fights he had been in at Shadowgreen, he had taken his share of devastating blows. There was a particularly long scar running diagonally right across his chest from when Dulzak, leader of the Grymwar, had almost sliced him open with his Cutting Magic. His face and neck were pretty clean, but the rest of his body was a testament to his life of battle. He could clearly remember how he had gotten each scar and who had given them to him, and he wore them all like medals of honor.