The castle of the captain of the kremlings was already intimidating enough from afar, but up close it only became even more daunting for the raptor, alone without his friend to guide him as he stood upon the bridge.  The first thing he had to realise was that he wasn't even at the castle entrance itself, but rather beneath it, staring towards an icy cavern.  Either a possible more accessible route, or perhaps the only route in which to access the castle.
And yet despite this, James felt like he was being invited in, as if he was expected to be here.  Clearing suspicions from his mind, he steeled himself with sharp breaths and walked in.
Upon walking forwards towards the open grotto at the other end of the bridge, he found himself surrounded by ice, the cave walls literally sculpted from crystalline water.  James was at first enraptured by the glistening sparkle of the beautifully natural ice, but also confused as to why this would even be near K. Rool's lair.  He knew reptiles were not exactly partial to the cold, but this was rather ridiculous to even have such a place here.
But then he realised that even trying to understand the mind of his former captain, who was already established as being rather mentally unbalanced, was impossible, and merely walked into the frozen caverns.  James remembered the misconceptions of his species back home that others had, about how they were unable to handle the cold, when in fact the anthros of his world were actually quite capable of doing so thanks to their humanised anatomy.  The truth was that they had less resistance to the cold, in the same way that someone from a hot country would handle the climate of a colder land.

This came to him all too clearly by the onset of shivers within the cave, his claws clacking upon slippery well-grooved icy pathways.  So it was not just a secret means of entry, it had to be the ONLY means of entry according to James' observations.  The cavern itself was not particularly eventful, thankfully, as he did his best to skirt around columns and over pools of icy water, not trusting his reptilian body enough to be able to handle an ice cold plunge.
He wondered how Kruz was doing in Klubba's care.  Klubba he knew was trustworthy, clearly a few steps away from mutiny himself with his opinions on K. Rool.  But he worried more about his friend's condition, and how antagonised it had become from the lack of rest after traipsing through a swamp and the forest.  Nevertheless, he could do nothing but walk onwards, resolute in being able to return to him once the captain had been dealt with.
	"Agh, f-f-finally..."
His breath shook with some relief as well as the cold upon finding the way out.  A passageway upwards and out of the cavern, which had given him some hope since the further he travelled through it, the less ice he saw.  Instead he eventually saw more rocky areas, and what he imagined were crystals similar to that of the mineshafts back at Crocodile Cauldron.
He had barely managed to even dip his toeclaw into the chilling waters below, much to his delight at having found some passages in the strongly-supported ceiling.  Namely in the form of vent-like crawlspaces that he slid his way through, in a manner not unlike a scaly penguin.  Glad to leave the ice behind, he clambered through the exit only to be greeted by another kind of chill.  Wind.

Much to his confusion, he found himself within another mineshaft, the very same crystals of the previous ones tantalisingly glinting towards him.  The sirens of the earth beckoned James with their shininess.  But for once, without Kruz to pull him away, he realised he had to stand firm.  Turning away from the gems as well as remembering that he still had one in his satchel for himself, he walked onwards.
He was also distracted by the fact that ferocious currents of wind were spiralling throughout the vertical passage, lifting several things with them from pickaxes to dislodged gems to kremlings even.  The raptor was no exception, the gales blowing in from the outside through vents to disturb the mines.  And at the altitude they were at, the drafts were nothing short of the fury of a full-blown tempest.
Naturally James was terrified, but what also worried him was the fact that there was a very clear path of destruction other than the wind.  Kremlings all around him were either knocked unconscious, or perhaps even dead from severe blunt trauma.  Bruises all over them showed clear signs of some sort of assault having taken place here, but he wasn't sure who was behind it.  Soon however, some survivors would find him.
	"HEY!"
	"Wh-yeah!?"
	"Who are you!?!"
Turning around, James saw a rather unusual new kremling that he had never seen before.  Green like the most common colour, but clad in a thick brown overcoat with both hands completely gone in place of giant steel hooks.  The kind of hooks that would be used for lifting crates onto ships.
	"I'm a rookie," he replied, "rigger in training, I came up from uhhh Crocodile Cauldron!"
	"Didn' hear any reports of any rookies comin' up."
The kremling scratched his snout casually with his hook, his equally-handicapped comrades forming a gang behind him.
	"What ship you serve on?"
	"Uhhhhh Gangplank Galleon."

He had no other name to give, and he theorised that if he gave a real name, he had better room to lie in.  This did however give him suspicion nevertheless.
	"And yer just climbin' up alllll the way 'ere why?"
	"I need to report to the captain, I'm one of his runners!"
	"Captain never sent out fer runners."
	"How would you know!?  Maybe he's too BUSY to deal with the likes of you when he's trying to get shit DONE!"
	"Cuz yer that Rex fella."
Shit, thought James, they know who I am?!  Goddamnit why can't I fool anyone on this fucking island, I haven't even seen a fuckin' wanted poster of me anywhere!  Oh right, I'm not a crocodile and I'm the only one wielding scissors, dammit!
	"Fine...I am.  What the hell you want?"
	"Well, just so happens yer wanted fer a li'l chat with the captain.  We just gotta take you up to Krook an' we'll-"
	"Uhhh, I'm already on my way up there.  I can handle myself thanks."
Half-turning away to make them think his guard was down, he readily dodged despite not expecting what was thrown at him.  The very steel hook itself that was on their arms, spinning out with a fwiff-fwiff-fwiff sound strangely like that of a boomerang.  Even more strangely, it even acted the same as a boomerang, spinning its way back to its owner to slip right back into his sleeve.
	"I think you should come quietly," said the kremling.
	"And I think I don't need a fucking chaperone who can't even open a locked door properly."
	"Oh, you wanna do this the 'ard way!?"
	"Not unless you can help me count how many asses I kicked to get here on one hand."
	"Oh thassit you little shit, you wanna mess with Krook's Krooks, then I 'ope you wrote yer will already."
	"Least I can still write one!" said James smugly.
Enjoying such cruel jibes, he brought out his scissors to get ready for a fight.  Knowing precisely what he wanted to do, he waited for one of them to throw out their boomerang hooks, deflecting it back at them with a mighty strike of his scissors.  With all the force he could muster in a single swing straight back at its owner.
They were not intimidated however as they tried to swing out more of them, hoping that James couldn't strike back all of them with a weapon that did not seem particularly fast, encouraging the raptor to attempt a spinning slash.  Putting his blades near his left thigh like a samurai with his blade, he soon swung in a circle with a furious roar.  Of the five hooks that spun towards him, he managed to deflect three of them, with one flying past him and the other scraping across his forehead, giving him a throbbing sting upon his skull.
	"NNNNGH!"
	"Yer as clever as a sack of wet mice lad."
	"Yeah!?  Well I can still kill you!"
He had enough and charged straight for them, slamming down a hook that flung towards him into the ground before readily thrusting his scissors into one of the krooks' guts.  Impeded, but not defeated by the other hand's hook trying to deflect it, the scissors instead impaled just above the thigh.  The kremling shrieked with agony as he felt his hip practically cleaved in two, leaving enough of an opportunity to lose his life when James twisted them diagonally to pull out, before stabbing higher up straight into the heart.

The other krooks were far too battle-hardened to be mortified, and merely went for James' all at once while he was busy killing their comrade, forcing the raptor to back off and swing at all of them.  Opening his scissors and spinning with one hand, he smacked a few hooks before catching one of their arms.  He pulled hard to shred it straight down the middle, splitting the entire limb from shoulder to steel claw, into two dangling thick tassels of flesh.
With one more opponent out of the way, the other three took no chances and swung at him together, with a surprisingly synchronised attack pattern of hook slashing in order to not harm each other.  They alternated left and right with an almost psychic comprehension of their friends' swings, back and forth, easily making James feel slightly intimidated by their attempts to disarm him.
They were organised enough to even deflect any of his attacks from hitting them, smacking the blades left and right with metal appendages, fearlessly so.  One of them was even lucky enough to slam both of his claws on opposite sides of the scissors, closing them shut.
	"HAH!  Whut now, boy?"
James didn't want to leave them too long with his blades trapped tightly, restrained from moving in any direction from the strong arms tight upon them, opting instead to spit straight into his opponent's eye with a thick snort to dissuade him.  The kremling, closing his eyes while temporarily disgusted, let his guard down as James twisted the blades away to stab straight through both eyes, rusted metal scraping through both optic cavities.
	"Lemme get that for you," quipped James with a bloodthirsty grin.

He pulled his weapon back out before focusing on the other two, who despite their losing record were not backing down from the fight, scraping steel upon steel as one decided to just spin straight towards the raptor.  A viciously furious spin that made his hookclaws razor-sharp, cutting the very wind itself.  Not even the scissors' guard was able to deflect it well enough without being smacked aside too much, knocking James down as he barely escaped injury, rolling on his side to get back up quickly.
James also realised that he couldn't waste anymore time when he needed to get to the top of the keep to confront their master.  But those hooks were deadly enough at long range, so he took a more disarming approach, backing away and waiting for them to swing out their hooks once again.  All he needed was to disarm them, even for a brief moment, to get away.
When the two krooks swung their deadly curved hands out towards the raptor, he opened his scissors, braced his body, and threw it upwards while still holding it, smashing both of the hooks straight into the air and disappearing from their sight.  Running off towards a powerful gust of wind that lifted several other things in the air, he rode upon the mighty updraft, laughing all the way with mockery.
	"You think yer clever lad," roared one of the krooks, "but wait 'til you meet Krook hisself!  WE'LL SEE WHO'S LAUGHIN' THEN!"

James did not take heed to their threats, as he was currently experiencing the strangest feeling of weightlessness as the wind blasted him ever upwards, trying to navigate himself upwards through the mineshaft.  The vertical tunnel was filled with other dangerous creatures such as Zingers, aimlessly buzzing left and right without any effect from the wind, as well as other Kremlings.  The krooks themselves were among them, having been called ahead to deal with intruders, swinging their hooks out towards James who did his best to swing them back with his blades.
Very little else could be done but float in the currents, the raptor feeling a little helpless to be at the mercy of the wind itself.  But it was all he could do to dodge wasps and metal hooks, climbing up onto platforms occasionally to gain some ground and navigate more efficiently.  Even though the windy well was not exactly long compared to the other mines he had climbed through, the pace was slow.  He worried that it would already be night time by the time he even reached the top of the mineshaft alone.
Thankfully however he managed to reach the next area, reaching the castle walls itself.  He could not tell how much time had passed since he had left Gloomy Gulch.  But a part of him realised that it did not matter as long as he could keep walking forwards, motivated by the urge to confront his former captain.  Violently or peacefully.

He stood before a tremendous-looking portcullis that strangely enough, was already open for someone to pass on through.  With some trepidation at the oddly inviting doorway, he stepped inside to the main fortress itself.  An array of rocky outcroppings formed by dungeons, oubliettes and chains, with passageways leading to other halls and dead-ends, accompanied by the sound of a cold dead wind.
It was the kind of wind that could only inhabit such baneful places.  The sound of death and misery upon the breeze that made James shiver with a sneer, tenderly walking across the cobbled floor.  Soon however, he started to see trickery before his eyes.  Perhaps he was more exhausted than he first thought, when he saw the hallway before him turning smaller and smaller, the ceiling coming down on top of him.
Panic rose in his body with a quick gaze upwards, as he ran and jumped upwards to higher ground, scrabbling onto dungeon stairways to get as far away from the ceiling as possible.  Despite managing to get away in easily enough time and underneath an even higher ceiling, which stretched quite a height above him, he still saw it coming down eventually towards him, slowly becoming more detailed by the minute.
It was only then that he realised that it was the floor going up.  And that only panicked the raptor even more.  Cursing at his predicament, James leapt as high as he could for a higher stone walkway and clambered hastily ever higher.  His climb was only impeded by the usual inhabitants of the island, namely zingers and kremling guards.  The hornets could care less, but the kremlings actively tried to either cleave him in two, or shove him backwards into the rising floor of doom.

For once James decided to run first and foremost, too worried for what fate laid in store for him if he decided to even touch that elevating floor, unceasingly raising itself upwards and crushing everything that dared stand upon it.  Many zingers met a cruel crunchy fate between stone and mortar, as well as several kremlings who were too slow to run.
The sound of bone cracking and grinding into stone sent shivers through the raptor's spine, viciously ear-popping snaps in succession running down his back like xylophone mallets, accompanied by gurgling screams.  It was even worse for the ones trapped in dungeon cells within the castle walls, forgotten examples of their leader's justice, with nowhere to run.  James even saw one frightened younger kremling stab himself straight through the throat with a self-made shank, immediately dying with a whimpering gurgle of bliss for a quick death, his eyes glazing over towards the raptor.
Doing his best to avoid a terrible fate in such a place, he utilised his best athletic skills, walljumping like he was back on Zebes or in the small alleyways of Chicago, kicking back and forth from wall to wall and leaving the floor behind him.  Soon however he would be rewarded by a breeze, a wondrous cool breeze to take away the hot fear sweating out from his veins.  Kicking his way out through the door, he ran immediately into the next area, never wanting to see a raising floor ever again.
He was however rather annoyed at finding himself inside another ice cavern.

	"The...hell?"
Now he was even more confused.  Why would K. Rool even want an ice cavern at his castle?  Unless it was already here when it was built, which did not make things any more clear to him.  Nevertheless, he marched onwards through the icy tunnels, his fear subsiding to be replaced only with indignation burning inside him.  The same cavern as it was before, only somewhat more treacherous to navigate with fully frozen ice lakes to skate across.
As much as James had ideas to take up ice skating, he was in no mood to play around and did his best to navigate across the chilling arctic-white stretches, seeing only how deep the water actually was.  Deep enough to terrify him with the notion that something huge might be lurking within, a fear shared by many, of the endless dark-blue waters.
Making his way across the ice was not easy, but with his scissors to stabilise himself he managed to cross to the other side with little problem.  His claws helped somewhat in giving him a sense of traction, leaping from lake to lake over crystallised walkways daring to blind him with their hell-frozen shine.  Another trapdoor above would lead him back within the castle walls, which he managed to see behind blue frozen sheets beforehand.
Traversing ever upwards, he saw an entire dungeon area filled with chains, crisscrossing both horizontally and vertically, structured in such a way that they would be perfect to climb.  Feeling uneasy at such an inviting way up, he tenderly grabbed one chain and slowly grappled onto the walls.  Nothing fell or raised upwards after a few minutes, so he felt safe enough to continue unabated, other than the usual fair of kremlings.

For James, this was the easiest area yet, his agility showing in full form as he scrabbled ever upwards between guards, some of which were even riggers like Kruz and Krow.  They tried to fight him on the metal vines, only to be given the clawfinger by the intruder and insultingly be left behind, the raptor leaping from chain to chain and climbing faster, spurred onwards as he found himself nearing the very top with what appeared to be one last room to navigate.
Another dungeon-like area, but somehow more moist than the previous ones.  It would have been unusual were it not for the treacherous water beneath James that glowed a healthy radioactive green.  The moment he climbed upwards onto a blocky stairwell, it started to rise, much as he expected it to.
	"Oh for fuck's sake."
All he could do now was to repeat his increasingly fast pace from the room that tried to kill him with the floor, the same fear rising within him, only for him to control it more with a spurt of confidence in him.  A spurt of confidence which somehow waned at the sound of kremlings screaming below him, as they drowned in the ooze.  Naturally he had to leave them behind, including prisoners encased within rocky prisons, left to either drown in the all-consuming lake of blinding death, or take the less painful route of suicide.
James could not deny that hearing the captain's own men suffer as incedental casualties in a horrifyingly abusive trap made him shiver.  It only made him even more afraid of K. Rool, a beast so seemingly mad with power that not only was he willing to sink his own ship to get what he wanted, but even drown and crush his entire castle garrison.  But with that fear came its counterpart of rage, the furious urge to slaughter the monstrous crocodilian despot.  If not for himself, then for all who had suffered beneath him.

The final ascent towards the tower's battlements was delayed only by the sturdiest most hardened of the garrison, cannon-wielding kremlings who happily blasted against the walls to kill the intruder.  But even with such brutal weapons James could easily run past them before they had a chance to fire, especially when their under-shoulder cannons still required a fuse.  The pool of acid made quick work of them, both flesh and metal disintegrating together into a terrible sizzling.  What disturbed James the most was the fact that they did not even scream.
Such loyalty made him cringe.  The very idea of dying for one insane king so readily was abhorrent to him, and he would soon have an outlet when he managed to escape the fate of all the other kremlings upon this very floor.  He was sure that the toxic water was pouring out of the windows by now, worrying for how it would affect the island and its inhabitants, including Kruz.  Even if he was in the company of the most dominating Klubba.
The stronghold's battlements circled around James as he finally stood upon the very top of K. Rool's Keep.  The wind was harsh, but not strong enough to sting his eyes, streaking across his bare chest, standing as defiantly as possible to not appear weak and shivering upon the very peak of Crocodile Isle.  He knew there had to be someone here, if not K. Rool then someone else.  And soon he heard a voice from nearby.  Not educated, but officious.
	"I knew ye'd be trouble the moment I first saw yer eyes."

Krook stood someways to James' right, the same callous expression from their first meet upon Gangplank Galleon gazing insipidly towards the raptor.  He didn't even turn to meet the first mate's gaze.
	"Whysat?"
	"Lad like you, can't even see the bigger picture of what we're tryin' to accomplish here."
He didn't even move despite the winds whistling between the ramparts from the polluted green sky all around them, daring James to turn weak against the high-bracing mountain gust.  Neither could even see the ocean that spanned in every direction, tinted foul black by the thunder-laden sky above them.
	"Where is he?"
	"Hmph, I'm not telling ye, boy."
	"You better tell me where your 'master' is.  Or else," the raptor brought out his blades, "I'm gonna turn you into some real ugly shoes."
	"My master?  OUR master.  Is gazing upon the world high above us."
Pointing behind the intruder, Krook indicated towards a rather surprising sight.  An enormous green helicarrier, floating in the sky, oddly silent like a steel balloon.
Eight rotors paired up vertically with four on each side, vile fumes pumped out of four chimney-sized exhaust pipes from the rear, the image of a crocodile snout decorating the front with plexiglass windows at both the front and the middle of the ship's body.  It was indeed a monster, with only one way to reach it, by a long ropeladder caught on some brambles at another tower, ending upon the keep itself where James stood.  The brambles moved but not because of the wind, parting left and right as if something was shuffling through them, but he could not tell.
	"Soon the next phase of his plan shall be complete," continued Krook with an austere tone, "with his nemesis in tow as the perfect sacrifice."
	"What sacrifice?!  What is this plan that was so fucking important you sunk your own goddamn ship for it!?!"
	"Supremacy lad!  To regain our place in the world as the top of the food chain, kings above all other species!"
	"What!?"
	"Course a lad like you, tainted to the point of forgettin' yer own legacy, would never understand."
	"Well enlighten me fuckwit!"
	"No."
	"Then can I see the captain about it?!"
	"No."
	"...you want me to make an appointment?"
	"Only if yer appointment's with the reaper, boy."
	"Hah, I didn't mean for me, I meant for YOU!"
With scissors low, James ran towards Krook, snarling eagerly to take down the first mate as the only thing that stood in his way towards his true objective.  He swung at the last minute to try and cleave him in two, only to cut at the air itself.  As soon as his blades had swung across to the other side, Krook had disappeared.
	"The...fu-GUH!"

A surprise punch to the back of his head made him dizzy as he turned to see the elite Kremling smile with arms crossed smugly.  Despite the fact that he was easily outmuscled by K. Rool's bodyguards, he was still a strong-looking 7 foot tall corsair, with a scarred chest and badly crooked teeth that belied his intelligence.
	"You done playin' around lad?"
	"RRAAGH!  I haven't even started yet!"
	"Guess not."
Krook snarled venomously as he brought out his scimitar within his left hand.  A lethal-looking blade that in James' world would be considered of Arabic origin, curved like a scorpion's tail with a silver hilt.  The only thing that could distract the raptor from the sword was its wielder's chest scar, now glinting a mysterious glow of vein-throbbing purple.  James raised his scissors once again, confused at the strange light within his opponent.
	"Wh-...what..."
	"Remember what we do with mutiny in the Kremling Krew?"
	"Yeah.  But I'll never kneel before you."
	"Typical.  Just when we thought you'd be one of us, an' all this time yer just some inferior freak tryin' to mimic us...too stupid to tell why I never even liked you.  You wanna know why I never liked you?"
	"No, and I don't even give a fuck."
	"Cuz I know yer a filthy mammal-lover."
	"Huh?"
	"Cap'n had to be blinded by yer 'graceful ancestral form' but I weren't fooled.  I'll make sure yer buried...like a dog."
The strangely insulting threat and the cruel smirk that accompanied it unnerved James, but he did his best to shake it away and not let Krook get to him.
The wind continued to cross the tower's peak unabated, lightning striking indeterminately above the land as James charged forwards with a mighty slash.  At first he tried to disarm Krook of his seemingly-weaker blade, a thin one-handed weapon that surely he could break with his mighty two-handed blades.  But Krook was not just first mate for his intelligence.
As soon as their blades clashed, he strafed to the side and sliced across James' cheek, which was in turn deflected by the scissors in a knee-jerk reaction to defend himself, opening him up for a good slash to the leg, cutting across the flank.  He gritted his teeth and kept his guard, waiting for Krook to make a testing thrust, smacking it down hard to stab forwards at the shoulder.  But the kremling was fast enough to dodge and swing his scimitar upwards, to throw James' aim off even more so.
The raptor kept his balance, remembering how to control himself as he spread his legs out to gain his stance, slamming a foot down onto the hard cobblestone and swinging his blade back around above his head.  He barely missed Krook, but hit at his sword hard enough to make him spin away, his own balance not as good as the raptor's.
Krook regained his composure however and charged forwards with a fencing thrust, forcing the raptor back as he tried to stay his ground, waiting for the right time before he smacked the scimitar to one side, spinning in a circle hard enough to deliver a mighty backfist straight across Krook's face.  The corsair snarled in pain from the bruising scars as he sliced back at James, readily trying to cut him in two, but the raptor already had his guard up in front of him, scissors horizontally between them.

Krook forced his blade against the guard with all of his might, knowing that despite the heavier weapon, or even perhaps because of the heavier weapon, his opponent was younger with less strength or stamina.  James knew this, not wanting to test the limits of Krook's own stamina as he readily strafed hard to the corsair's right, bringing his scissors up then down in a cleaving motion to try and break the scimitar.  All he did was make it shiver with reverberations, as Krook eagerly punched out at James to knock him away and free his blade.
With a rising fury, the raptor spun around to swing his scissors tremendously hard, even spinning around twice to keep his opponent away, who merely waited before barging into James when his balance would most be off.  However, the raptor knew just how to correct this and stabbed the blades into the ground behind him for support, swinging his body in a half-circle to swing the scissors another half-circle, clanging them resoundingly off of Krook's blade hard enough to unbalance him in turn.
Without the support that James had, the kremling fell more easily, just enough for the raptor to cleave his left shoulder in two, hard through the bone, splinters chipping out.  The first mate roared in agony before kicking his assailant away with both feet straight into the gut.  With the wind knocked out of his sails, James fell on all fours, but recovered quickly, watching Krook desperately clutch his shoulder.  It soon bled heavily enough to trickle through his fingers.  Despite the pain that made him grunt and sneer, he chuckled darkly.

	"Hehehe...nnngh...not bad boy...but can ya kill me quick enough?"
	"Quick enough?"
Krook then began to chant an odd but somehow familiar incantation, clutching his shoulder harder as his voice turned into a deathly growl.
	"Nehes em hotep, nehes em neferu...Sebek..."
His shoulder began to glow with the strange purple light from his chest, somehow travelling through the veins in his hand and shimmering unto his bone.  Blood started to fade away, turning into ash in his fingers.  With his incantation finished in less than a minute, he took his hand away from the shoulder, to find it completely healed without a scratch, much to James' dismay.
	"WH-WHAT!?!"
	"Hhha ha ha ha ha...see this?"
He showed off his right hand, the faded remains of what once was his own blood snatched away by the wind in ashen tendrils.
	"THIS is the power of supremacy."
	"You fucking cheater!  That is BULLSHIT!"
	"Can't cheat genes boy...but a li'l inheritance don't hurt either."
Undaunted by his opponent's healing, he ran forwards with another mighty swing, waiting to see what Krook would do, repeating the motion of strafing the other way to try and feint a swing, which James stepped away from in preparation.  In turn however, Krook had seen his opponent's awareness and charged forwards with a stab to his thigh, making the raptor cry out and slash furiously with his free hand to score a few extra hits on Krook's snout, barely scraping at his eye.
Krook pulled away, snarling but pleased at having weakened his opponent somewhat, who still remained standing despite the stab to his leg that slowed his movement down.  But in a battlefield like this James did not need to move around much, only needing enough to dodge.  And even with a wounded leg, he had enough speed in him to do just that.
Taking no chances, he waited for Krook to make the first move this time, the first mate swinging high which James countered with a low kick to the gut.  He strafed to slash across the right shoulder with his scissors, scarring them badly but not enough to weaken his opponent's fighting skill too much.  Regardless, James knew he had to keep on him to prevent him having a chance to heal, which he unfortunately got to do when they clashed once again, blades scraping against each other, the kremling using his right hand and touching with the very tips of his claws to heal with his incantation.

James was not having any of it, and shoved Krook hard to one side, readily coming down on him but only to slam his scissors straight into cobblestone when Krook had rolled to one side.  In his rolling recovery, he swung his scimitar across the raptor's cheek, a rather deep enough wound to start bleeding strongly under his left eye, blood dribbling over his teeth.
The raptor roared and striked once again at his opponent, who was attempting to get up with a not fully-healed shoulder, stabbing him hard through the very same shoulder to make him roar in agony.  Even moreso when he pried open the scissors inside the bone, and cracked it open like an oyster.  Despite it not being the arm he wielded his blade with, Krook was certainly feeling weakened enough despite his willingness to keep fighting.
	"Stop even trying you pathetic lubber!"
	"I'm not down yet!  You can't heal everything!"
	"TRY ME!"
Krook did not heal his wound however, knowing that his enemy was ready to strike once again, letting his right arm hang limp to the side and focusing only on his sword arm.  The kremling began slashing vigilantly against the raptor's advances, waiting until he was cocky enough to swing too hard and take advantage of it with a punching slash.  It was close enough to punch at James' ribs with his hilt, to push him far away enough to slice down across the chest.
Thankfully James backed off far enough with a staggering to only feel the tip of the saif's blade scrape along his chest sorely, grunting and resisting the urge to clutch himself as he braced his scissors once again with both hands.  Suddenly, they were interrupted by a massive explosion from the sky above, lighting the entire arena in a brilliant burning flash of orange and yellow, as if a nuclear bomb had just been detonated.  The Flying Krock burned above them, a hellish metallic crocodile snout amidst snapping propellers and a broiling inferno.
The helicarrier began to tear itself away from the keep, and began a terrifying descent towards the bottom of the isle, to somewhere they could not see.  The fires and explosions rang across the sky with such force, that even the thunderclouds themselves wilted at the sound.  Despite the shock at what he was seeing, Krook took the time to heal himself, turning away and pushing his sword hand to his wounded shoulder as he quickly chanted his healing, while James gleefully mocked him unaware.
	"HAH, looks like your king's fallen off his throne and into Hell!  What you got to say about THAT, huh!?!  Awwwww, you gonna cry now Krooky-poo?  Come on, say something bitch!"
	"No one...mocks my master.  ESPECIALLY not a filthy degenerate like YOU!"

Fully healed much to the raptor's dismay, Krook charged forwards with a violent thrust, barely missing James who strafed quickly enough to avoid major injury other than a piercing to the outer edges of his waist.  Screaming as he swung his scissors with one hand straight towards Krook's face, he slammed the inner blade straight into Krook's left armpit, a veritable target for severe bleeding to occur.
The corsair roared and stabbed James once again, but he was trapped by the raptor forcing his arm and the scissors against the sword arm, keeping himself impaled along the side with minor damage.  With an idea coming to his head, James grabbed the other handle of the scissors, pulled himself away from the scimitar blade and immediately grabbed the sword between his scissorblades, struggling to not wince from having extricated himself off of it.
Krook knew he could still thrust however and did his best to do so.  James strafed away as the two danced briefly in a circle before the ex-kremling swung his scissors upwards, dangerously moving the sword towards his head, and cutting violently within one single slam of the handles together.  The sword was still not cut, trapped between the scissorblades like metal wire.
But Krook's neck was.

With a choking gurgle transforming his face into a bulging sneer, the first mate of K. Rool tried to force something from his throat, currently trapped between two scissorblades that cut deep into either side of his jugular vein.  Blood ran down the rusty blades smoothly, to meet at the central hinge of James' weapon, pooling to drip down both handles and onto the stone floor between them.  His scar began to flicker and pulsate weaker and weaker, his heart struggling to stay alive.
	"Quick enough for ya?" said James with a hard-breathing smug grin.
He soon pulled his scissors back once more and cut once again, forcing Krook's head to weaken its connection to the rest of the body.  It tilted backwards, exposing cut and chewed-up veins like wires in a broken fusebox.  With one last snip, he decapitated the corsair, his body falling uselessly to the side to bleed out from the neck.  Seeing the scar continue to flicker, he quickly dragged the kremling's body towards the battlements.
	"Don't wanna fight a fucking zombie pirate now, do I?"
He wasn't sure how strong Krook's healing was, but he was taking no chances as he threw the corpse over the edge, straight down a rocky cliff where it crumpled and snapped into the sea, leaving the head where it fell.  With nobody else in his way, he looked towards where the Flying Krock had fell.  Somewhere in a jungle, facing in the direction of Donkey Kong Isle.
Was this intentional?  Was K. Rool that insane he even dared to kamikaze his own personal helicarrier towards his nemesis' island just to kill him?  What was K. Rool planning with Donkey Kong anyway?  Despite the questions burning from all of his assumptions, he had to go back down in order to reach the site.  With the fortress flooded and sealed off, he would have to find another way.