CHAPTER 67: [67] MY HERO, MY CANNON FODDER

The chamber exploded into violence as Saxe’s twin sabers carved silver arcs through the amber-tinted air. Pierre rolled sideways, his rusty pipe clanging against the volcanic glass floor as he narrowly avoided decapitation. Hardy’s stolen darkness surged through his veins, lending him strength and speed that felt foreign yet necessary.

Jack’s voice boomed across the cavern like a battle hymn written by someone who’d never seen actual combat. "Fear not, fair maidens! Your noble hero has arrived!"

Noble hero? Pierre thought, parrying another of Saxe’s lightning-fast strikes. This moron just called Raven a fair maiden. She’s going to murder him herself.

Saxe pressed his attack, his scarred face remaining expressionless as his blades moved in patterns that spoke of decades spent perfecting the art of killing. Each strike came from a different angle, forcing Pierre to give ground toward the chamber’s curved wall. The silent man fought like death itself—inevitable, methodical, and utterly without mercy.

"Stand still, villain!" Jack bellowed, his fists crackling with pink and blue energy. "Your evil schemes end here!"

Pierre ducked under a horizontal slash from Saxe’s left saber, then immediately had to twist away from the follow-up thrust from the right. The blade passed close enough to his ribs that he felt the steel’s chill through his shirt.

"We’re not the villains, you brain-dead—" Pierre started to shout.

"Lies!" Jack interrupted, his power flaring brighter. "I can sense the corruption in your very soul!"

Of course you can, Pierre realized with growing horror. Hardy’s essence. The darkness I absorbed from that bastard—Jack’s probably reading it like a neon sign.

Moreau’s laughter rang through the chamber like poisoned bells. "How delightfully predictable. The hero sees only what he expects to see."

Saxe’s next combination nearly took Pierre’s head off. The silent man’s twin sabers moved like extensions of his own body, each blade complementing the other in a deadly dance that left no openings. Pierre’s pipe felt crude and clumsy in comparison, a child’s toy against a master craftsman’s work.

Across the chamber, Raven had dropped one Black Serpent pirate with a precise strike to his pressure points, but two more were closing in. Her blue eyes blazed with fury as she moved, her short red-and-white hair whipping around her face like a battle flag.

"Touch her and die," Alyssa snarled, her riding crop cracking like thunder as it caught another pirate’s wrist. The blonde’s pale green eyes had gone cold as winter seas, her aristocratic features twisted into something feral and protective.

Pierre parried another strike from Saxe, the impact sending vibrations up his arm. Hardy’s enhanced strength was the only thing keeping him in this fight, but even that felt like trying to hold back an avalanche with his bare hands.

Jack’s energy continued building, the pink and blue aura around his fists growing brighter and more unstable. The air itself seemed to vibrate with barely contained power, and Pierre could see cracks beginning to form in the amber walls from the pressure alone.

Wait. Pierre’s eyes darted to the damaged ceiling, then to the delicate amber formations covering the chamber walls. This whole place is held together by volcanic glass and ancient resin. One wrong move and...

A plan began forming in Pierre’s mind—insane, desperate, and completely dependent on Jack being exactly as stupid as he appeared to be. But it might be their only chance.

Pierre shoved hard against Saxe’s next attack, using the silent man’s momentum to create distance between them. Then he did something that made everyone in the chamber freeze.

He sprinted directly toward the amber heart.

"Pierre, no!" Raven shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.

"Stop him!" Moreau commanded, her golden eyes blazing with sudden alarm.

But Pierre was already there, his hand slamming down onto the alien artifact’s crystalline surface. The moment his palm made contact, the preserved heart pulsed with blinding light. Energy raced up his arm like liquid fire, and the chamber filled with an otherworldly hum that made everyone’s teeth ache.

The power was intoxicating. Pierre could feel the ancient consciousness stirring within the amber, offering knowledge and strength beyond mortal comprehension. It whispered promises of dominion over the seas, of reshaping the world according to his will. For a heartbeat, he understood why Moreau had orchestrated all of this.

Then Hardy’s darkness surged in response to the artifact’s call, and Pierre felt the two forces clash within his body like opposing storms. The sensation was agony and ecstasy combined, threatening to tear him apart from the inside.

But he held on, channeling every acting lesson his mother had ever given him as he turned to face Jack. The cruel smirk that spread across his face came straight from Hardy’s essence, cold and mocking and utterly convincing.

"You’re too late, ’hero’!" Pierre called out, letting the artifact’s alien energy course visibly through his body. Golden light raced along his arms like veins of molten metal, and his eyes reflected the amber heart’s otherworldly glow. "With this power, I’ll be unstoppable!"

Jack’s face went through a series of expressions—confusion, recognition, and finally righteous fury. The blue-haired protagonist had seen this exact scenario play out in a thousand different stories. The villain reaching the source of ultimate power just as the hero arrived. The classic final boss transformation.

"I won’t let you!" Jack roared, his earlier doubts evaporating like morning mist. His power flared to new heights, the pink and blue energy crackling around his entire body now. The air shimmered with heat, and loose amber fragments began levitating around him like a miniature storm.

Perfect, Pierre thought, even as the competing energies in his body threatened to tear him apart. Play to the script, you magnificent idiot.

Moreau’s smile widened, her scaled fingers drumming against her thigh. "How wonderfully dramatic. The villain claims the artifact just as the hero arrives for the final battle. Some stories write themselves."

But Pierre wasn’t looking at Moreau. His eyes were fixed on the chamber’s ceiling, calculating angles and stress points. The ancient amber formations were beautiful, but they were also incredibly fragile. And Jack’s power, for all its devastating force, had one critical flaw that had always annoyed Pierre about the original story.

It was completely indiscriminate.

"You think you can stop me?" Pierre taunted, letting Hardy’s cruelty color his voice. "I’ve absorbed the heart of a Great Serpent! I am beyond your pathetic human strength!"

Jack’s aura flared brighter, the energy now so intense that it was causing the air itself to burn. "Evil never triumphs over the power of justice and friendship!"

Friendship, Pierre thought with dark amusement. You don’t even know our names, you self-righteous moron.

"Then come and stop me!" Pierre spread his arms wide, the amber heart’s power making him glow like a fallen star. "Show me this legendary strength I’ve heard so much about!"

Jack’s power reached critical mass. The pink and blue energy coalesced into a sphere of pure destruction above his head, growing larger and more unstable by the second. The very air around it began to crack like glass, and Pierre could feel the heat from across the chamber.

"TITAN BOOST ULTIMATE CANNON!" Jack bellowed, raising the energy sphere above his head like a miniature sun.