Reincarnated as a Princess's Pet: With Trash Stats, but SSS-Rank Skill-Chapter 72: Who Put Cerberus to Sleep?

Max and Azael reached the corridor leading to the hall where Cerberus was kept. The gate stood at the end of the passage. It was massive and metallic, covered in chains and locks.

Max stopped in front of it.

"...looks like we made it."

Azael spoke calmly. He stepped closer to the gate.

"...this is the place."

He slightly turned his head toward Max.

"...get ready."

A faint smile formed on his lips.

"...you’re about to meet the castle’s pet."

Max swallowed.

Azael placed his hand on one of the locks.

"...be a little careful."

Pause.

"...it drools a lot."

Another lock came loose.

Clank.

"...and it likes to play."

Another one.

Clank.

Azael let out a soft chuckle.

"...but it doesn’t bite..."

He turned the final mechanism.

Clank.

He glanced sideways at Max.

"...unless I tell it to."

Max clenched his fists, slightly nervous.

"...I’m ready."

His eyes were steady.

"...I want to see Abby. Let’s go in."

Azael didn’t reply. He pushed the gate open. It was clearly heavy.

The interior of the hall revealed itself. Dark. Cold.

Azael stepped in first, confident.

Max followed.

And then he saw it.

A giant black dog with three heads. It was covered in dark armor. A thick collar wrapped around its necks. Chained, completely motionless, and apparently asleep.

The hall was enormous, but what stood out the most... were the bones. Scattered everywhere. Piles. Remains. Skulls. Some clearly not from animals. Elves, dwarves, and other things.

Max felt a knot in his stomach.

"...shit..."

Azael frowned.

"...this is strange."

He observed the beast.

"...very strange."

He crossed his arms.

"...Cerberus should be awake."

He looked at Max.

"...he always jumps to play when we open the gate."

Max didn’t respond. His eyes scanned the room. Then, something caught his attention.

A giant bowl, near the beast’s body.

He approached slowly. Carefully. He looked inside—and froze.

Empty vials. Too many.

Max picked one up and examined it. It felt familiar.

"...sleep potion..."

He looked up.

"...and a lot of it, apparently."

Azael looked at him. His expression changed. More serious. More alert.

"...how much?"

Max let the vial fall.

The dull sound echoed.

"...enough..."

Pause.

"...to put something that big to sleep."

Azael didn’t hesitate. He clenched his fists and snapped his fingers.

Five skeletons emerged from the ground. They lined up, awaiting orders.

"...move it, quickly and carefully."

The skeletons obeyed. They pushed the beast. Cerberus’ body barely shifted at first, but then it slowly slid, revealing what was underneath. A dark opening. It was an open hatch in the floor.

Max narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. Metal stairs, spiraling downward. Toward where the prisoners should be. Toward Abby.

Azael spoke, his voice tense.

"...Max, come."

He didn’t take his eyes off the hole.

"...we have to go this way."

Pause.

"...and carefully."

He slightly turned.

"...I don’t like this at all."

Max nodded. His hand instinctively went to his gear. Ready.

"...me neither."

Without another word, Azael began descending. Step by step.

Max followed.

The sound of metal beneath their feet.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

And the darkness swallowed them.

***

The descent ended, and the metallic echo of footsteps disappeared, replaced by the sound of dripping water.

Max set his foot on solid ground. He frowned.

"This is a sewer, it doesn’t look like a prison."

The place was narrow and damp. Corridors stretched in multiple directions. Torches hung from the walls. Some lit. Others... extinguished. The light was uneven.

Azael moved forward without hesitation.

"...let’s go this way."

Max nodded.

"...alright."

But he didn’t lower his guard. His eyes moved from side to side. Every shadow. Every corner. He stayed alert.

The smell hit him suddenly. It was overwhelming.

Rotten stench.

Max stopped abruptly and brought his hand to his face.

"...what the hell...?"

Azael didn’t react.

"...this is where we keep criminals."

He kept walking.

"...we let them die slowly."

Max frowned deeper.

"...die slowly?"

Azael nodded slightly.

"...eating garbage, or getting sick."

The sound of dripping water grew heavier.

"...this air..."

He looked ahead.

"...it poisons and kills slowly."

Max covered his mouth and nose.

"...why didn’t you tell me the air was toxic?!"

Azael let out a laugh.

"...you seem pretty jumpy."

He turned slightly.

"...don’t worry. Breathing it for a while won’t do anything to you."

Max didn’t respond, but he didn’t uncover his face. He kept walking.

Then, they heard a distant sound.

Groans. Like someone dying.

Max paused for a second.

"...did you hear that...?"

Azael didn’t stop.

"...yeah, it’s normal."

A chill ran down Max’s spine.

They kept moving.

And finally reached the cells. Rows of rusted bars. Some doors open. Darkness inside.

Max approached one. Looked in—it was empty. Blood on the floor. Filth. Remains.

The other cells were the same. Empty. Destroyed.

Azael frowned.

"...this is no longer normal."

He looked around.

"...something happened here."

At that moment, Max heard something. At the end of the corridor. A chant, in another language. One he understood, but couldn’t quite identify.

His eyes widened.

"...that... I can understand it..."

Before he could say more, the corridor lit up suddenly.

A blinding light.

Max covered his eyes.

"...shit!"

Azael did the same. The water began to move violently.

Something was emerging. First, hands.

Then entire bodies.

Corpses. But not normal ones.

With horns. Swollen flesh. Dead eyes.

Max felt like he was in a zombie game. He stepped back.

"...what are these things...?"

Azael gritted his teeth.

"...that bastard’s magic."

His gaze hardened.

"...Dante."

He snapped his fingers. More skeletons rose from the ground. Ready to fight.

Azael pulled out a coin and tossed it to Max.

"...take it."

Max caught it.

"...keep going down the path, I’ll hold them off."

Max hesitated for a second.

"...thanks."

Azael gave a faint smile.

As the first zombies advanced.

"...run, I’ll catch up."

The skeletons lunged into battle. The sound of bones clashing. Flesh tearing. Azael moved forward as well. Straight at them. Fearless.

Max tightened his grip on the coin. Looked ahead. And ran.

Leaving the chaos of battle behind.

And the devil...

Facing the dead.