The Bloodforged Kin

Chapter 237 - 231: Zavier - Stop Biting My Face Off!

"Welcome back, sir." Jeeves stood with a patient smile on his face, glass of champagne on the tray. Zavier sighed and slipped the brass knuckles back on his hands.

"Guess we're doing this again?"

"As you say, sir."

Zavier downed the glass again before handing it to the man. The scene replayed itself, but this time Zavier was ready. Jeeves leapt at him and Zavier dodged, swinging to catch him under the arm where he couldn't dodge out of the way. Jeeves grunted and slid backwards, shoes squeaking on the ground. The maids were already in the air when the other two reached him.

Zavier grunted as he appeared in the pedestal room again.

"What did you learn?"

"I learned that those maid things really like biting faces off. Other things too." Zavier shuddered.

"What else?"

"I managed to get under Jeeves' attack. I hit him where I knew he couldn't dodge. Going for the limbs or head is pointless, they're just too fast for that, but going for the body worked."

"Good. The lesson to take from this isn't necessarily that going for the body is the ideal attack - that won't always be the case. What is important is that you discovered a weakness in their style and exploited it. Now, begin again."

Twelve more times he attempted it, and twelve more time he reappeared in the room. Shatter didn't even bother asking him what he'd learned and Zavier wasn't keen on answering his questions anyway. He was starting to understand why his family got so frustrated at his lectures and lessons. Without another word he stepped out of the door and crossed to the house. He flipped a double bird to the house, which only laughed a deep, booming laugh at the gesture.

Lucky number 13, he thought as he handed the glass back to Jeeves. This time when the attack came his frustration welled up inside of him. Before he could think it through his chains were flying through the air, cutting the maids in half with Razorlink and puncturing through the chests of the others. He whooped in victory. "Ye-"

"-s!" He looked around in confusion. He was back in the pedestal room. "Oh, fuck you!"

"You were warned, Zavier. You are not to use your chains for battle."

"Then how in the fuck am I supposed to beat them? They're faster than me and just as strong - maybe stronger. I have those stupid-ass brass knuckles which, quite frankly, are the worst possible weapons imaginable against these guys! Can you throw me a bone or something? I'd like to actually see more than the lobby some time this year!"

Shatter let out a long sigh. "Zavier, what is the primary lesson I have given you?"

Zavier punched a wall. "I'm tired of your lessons!"

"That is irrelevant. What was the most important thing I told you to remember?"

Zavier sucked air through gritted teeth and took a moment to calm himself down. "I don't know, man. What?" He was met with only silence. "Fine. It was…" he thought then realized his mistake. "I'm still thinking like pre-System Zavier, aren't I?"

"Continue."

Zavier had come to recognize that this was Shatter's signal that he was on the right track. He began pacing the room. "I'm fighting these guys like I'm in a bar fight or something - leading with my fists instead of my head. But why? I'm no fighter. I can hold my own, sure, but why resort to just one thing? Jesus, you're really making me feel like an idiot here, Shatter."

"You are doing that to yourself. You've missed the biggest lesson."

"And what is that?? It's been nothing but lessons! You think you're teaching me, but you're not giving me anything to go off of! Give me a damned clue, man!"

"Zavier, you are direct and straightforward. You identify a problem and come up with a solution, then stick doggedly to that solution. You are creative and inventive, but are overconfident in your ability to succeed with a plan without considering alternatives. You come up with what you perceive as the ideal solution and refuse to give up on it until it has succeeded. That is a mindset that will get you far as you journey down the path of becoming a System Architect, but it is hampering you now. You need to think. Adapt. Sometimes the ideal solution is not the best one."

"It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness. That is life."

There was a delay in Shatter's normally quick response. "That is very insightful. The person from your world that said that was wise indeed."

"Yes, he is," Zavier laughed. "Okay, so I need to adapt my style. Don't rely on any one thing, just keep trying different paths to success. Don't go for the immediate win, go for whatever will see me to the end."

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"That is a good strategy, but not all of it. You're missing a key point. And, since you seem unable to come to it on your own, I will hold your hand."

"That's unnecessarily rude."

"And yet… You saw what was in front of you and assumed that was the path you must follow. You didn't look beyond the immediate."

"What are you… oh, damn. I've been an idiot, again. You're talking about the brass knuckles, aren't you? I saw them and assumed I was supposed to beat the challenge using only them."

Shatter's silence was the only confirmation he needed. "Instead, I should have accepted them as another weapon at my disposal, but not my only one. I should have been trying other things too."

"That is the course of action I would suggest. Good luck."

Zavier stepped through the door again. And again. And again.

He stood in the lobby and reached for the glass. "Oh man, you're a real mensch, Jeeves. I was getting sick of that stuff."

"It is bourbon, as you requested the last time, sir."

"This is really, really good stuff. What is it?"

"It is a vintage found only here, sir."

"That's a shame. Think I can take any bottles I find with me?"

"Doubtful, but anything is possible, sir."

"How many times has it been?"

"This is your 69th attempt, sir."

"Nice."

"Indeed, sir."

"Anyway, I'm going to kick your asses this time Jeeves. You and your psychotic face-biting maids over there are going down."

"It is good to retain hope, sir."

"Jeeves?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I really don't like you."

"Understood, sir. Ready to begin?"

Zavier handed the glass back. "Yep. Let's do the damned thing."

Zavier had been learning and he knew he was ready. The last 10 or so fights he hadn't even tried to win, he'd simply been testing out different strategies. It hurt like hell to get your face and fingers bitten off, but it was worth it in the end. He was always fully healed when he appeared in the pedestal room, the experience slowly lowering his inhibitions with getting injured. If he'd taken a moment to truly consider he would have realized that his tolerance to pain had been growing at an insane rate. It was to the point where he could have the flesh stripped from his face and his hands ending in bloody stumps and still continue fighting. He hadn't noticed the change, but Shatter had.

His speed at creating his life-seeking missiles had increased to where he could launch dozens of them almost instantaneously. He'd learned that he could encode them differently, not requiring that they all do the same thing. He'd also learned that there was a cheat he hadn't exploited previously - he wasn't able to use his chains for battle, but he could use the hell out of them as long as he didn't attack. He also learned that the Sonic Screwdriver didn't count as part of the chain.

Missiles flew from him like fireworks, the first wave bonded with his Light Source spell. Those sought out the eyes of everyone in the room, blinding them. Immediately following them were standard missiles, meant to impact and explode, sending the servants reeling or falling from the air. The final wave was a new addition he'd thought of for this iteration - coding them with the fire code he'd tried when fighting the Ice Wyrm.

"Yes!" He shouted as the flame orbs exploded onto the servants, igniting them like dry tinder. The maids screamed as they were the most-affected by the flames, scuttling across the walls to flee into the shadows behind the staircase.

He did a back handspring to dodge the incoming attacks from the two lesser butlers - he'd been practicing his own evasion maneuvers for the last few runs and gotten pretty decent at tumbling, if he said so himself. His perfect recall of Olympics routines guided his motions and sped up his perfection of the techniques.

"Expecto Lightuminious or some shit!" He yelled and thrust his Sonic Screwdriver at the pair, Arcane Lightning leaping from the tip and igniting their nervous systems enough to show through their skin. He pushed it further, pouring all of his energy into it until their eyes exploded with satisfying pops.

Suddenly he found himself flying through the air as Jeeves shoulder-checked him. He twisted in mid-air to plant his feet on the wall, vaulting himself away in a smooth roll that took him underneath the butler's next swing. He punched out and caught Jeeves' knee with a brass knuckle, the joint exploding sideways with a crack.

Jeeves didn't make a sound as he fell to one knee, sliding across the marble floor. Using the wall for support he pulled himself up and turned to face Zavier with a limp.

"Well done, sir. That was the first time you've managed to strike me in many attempts."

Zavier bent down to pick up the tray that he'd come to hate so much, running his finger along the smooth edge. "It won't be the last. I think it's time to end this."

"One can only hope, sir."

"You ready, Jeeves?"

"I have been for quite some time, sir."

Zavier nodded solemnly. He hated to admit it, but he'd come to like the psychotic bastard. That wasn't going to save the man, though. He gave Jeeves a moment to tug at his coat jacket, setting it straight with studied perfection. He activated Fara's Gift to increase the mass of the tray and spun, hurling it like a discus. Jeeves never looked at it, his eyes twinkling with hidden amusement as the tray cut him in half, burying itself in the wall behind him.

"Very good, sir," he coughed out as the top half of his body slid off the tray and onto the ground.

There was a scuttling sound and Zavier turned to see the maids crawling across the ground on all fours, their teeth too long and their skin burned and ruined.

"Ugh, I hate you guys so much. Expecto Fuckyou!" He yelled and launched every burning missile he could at them.

The Estate had fallen silent as Zavier waited for the smoke to clear. The marble floor was covered in blood and gore and the stench of burning flesh filled the space with a cloying scent that made Zavier's stomach growl.

"Shut up you sick bastard," he said to it. "This isn't a barbecue. Well, it is - but not that kind."

There was a deep reverberation as the house itself chuckled and a message appeared in Zavier's vision.

Welcome to the Funhouse Estate!

Entertainment and excitement await you inside!

Chills ran up Zavier's spine and he checked the use count on his brass knuckles.