Zed took the sword and stepped out of his car. He gave the sword an experimental swing and it felt
easy and light. The sword balanced itself in his hand like it had belonged there. "I don't really feel very keen to do this Krazkaf." "Then you can give up and die easily," his opponent growled. "Not at all keen on that." Krazkaf came at Zed with his burning sword swinging in a wide
arc. Zed blocked. The sword in his hands rang as the weapons clashed. Such was the force of the strike that Zed's footing slipped and he slid back a few feet. "Hold your ground, boy," the sword said in his head, "I can only help you till a point, you have to do some work too." "Yeah? Then let's give the burning boy a taste of steel." Zed struck at Krazkaf with an offhanded strike and the burning sword easily blocked the strike. Zed stepped inside the block and before Krazkaf could realize what was happening Zed had kicked the big man's legs from under him. Krazkaf's face burned with surprise as he fell to the ground and Zed rained a flurry of wild swings on him. At first Krazkaf blocked them as well as he could, but there was no heart in his blocks. With a mighty strike, Zed smacked the sword out of Krazkaf's hand. He stood on top of the fallen man, breathing hard, he asked, "Death or dishonor?" "Death." Krazkaf spat at him. "So be it, old boy." Zed raised his sword and brought it down hard on Krazkaf's left
hand. The demon screamed in pain, but Zed was not done. He chopped off the right hand too.
Krazkaf writhed in pain and anger as blood made a pool around his feet. Zed picked him by the scruff of his neck and led him towards the labyrinth.