Pope Pug
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Chapter 44.
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 16:12:08 +0000 UTCI stepped through the wide doorway past the now-broken large statue. Its pieces were scattered across the floor—stone limbs, cracked joints, and a ruined paw that had split down the center.
It actually kind of helped.
Not completely, though. But just enough to loosen something tight in my chest. I wasn’t that mentally frustrated anymore, but still physically tired.
I stretched my limbs as I passed through, paused to yawn once, then kept walking.
If the next thing gave me a riddle, I was no longer going to wait. It would get the same answer if it wanted a game.
The hallway narrowed.
Not in height, I could still walk upright, but the walls were pressed in tighter, and the stone under my paws was a bit different, smooth and slightly worn. Along both sides, small holes dotted the wall. Uniform in shape. Maybe the size of a coin.
The gate at the end was the same one I had just walked through.
I slowed down when I noticed something.
There was a line across the floor just above the dust. A thin wire, nearly invisible unless you were actively looking for it. It was stretched straight across the width of the hall, tensioned between two recessed hooks.
A tripwire.
I moved carefully, just stopping a few paces before it, but then.
Click.
The stone underneath me sunk and a low grinding noise started somewhere inside the walls.
The trap hadn’t been the wire.
It was the floor.
Something fell on my head.
It shattered into tiny bits against the top of my skull. When the fragments rolled off my back, I could vaguely make it out to be some sort of hardened clay. Maybe a clay jar?
The contents inside, though, ran down my shoulders and soaked into the fur along my spine. It was thick, cold, and sticky.
Then the scent hit my nose.
It was terrible. The kind of rot that curled in the back of your throat. The closest comparison I could make was that it was something between spoiled meat, open sewage, and old onions in a pot overnight.
My snout twitched involuntarily. I didn’t gag, but it was close.
I looked up and couldn’t see where it came from.
Other than the smell, nothing else happened.
It didn’t burn. Didn’t itch. Just smelled like absolute death.
I stood there for a moment before I sighed and kept walking.
Whatever that was, it wasn’t worth dignifying.
I carefully stepped over the tripwire, careful not to touch the line.
Then, again. My paw sank into the floor. Same as last time.
Click.
I stopped moving.
Another grinding noise started from the walls again.
And before I noticed, the first arrow hit my shoulder. The second bounced off my ribcage.
Then the others came in a wave. Thin bolts of sharpened metal fired in clusters from each side, aimed chest-high and higher. The sound of them hitting me was like hard rain against packed leather.
Not one of the arrows pierced.
The shafts snapped. Tips bent. A few stuck in my fur for a second before falling off.
And upon seeing that it was this type of trap, I started walking again.
I finally reached the end of the long corridor, shaking sand and dust from my fur. After that tedious hallway of traps, I had no desire to linger a second longer.
With a firm push of my head against the heavy door at the corridor’s end, I immediately entered as soon as it cracked open.
My nose twitched as I entered the next room. It was lit by a strange bluish glow from crystals embedded high in the stone walls. Scattered across the room were human-shaped statues—hundreds of them, maybe more—standing in rows.
To me, each statue was little, about as tall as an average human. They were carved soldiers, frozen mid-stance with swords, spears, and shields at the ready.
I padded forward between two rows of stone warriors, ears pricked for any movement.
Was this next trial going to be a fight? It certainly looked like an arena for an ambush; I could imagine these statues springing to life and swarming me.
But as I went past the first dozen, nothing moved. The statues remained still with blank-eyed gazes fixed ahead.
I even sniffed one of them, which just smelled like stale air. For good measure, I gave the nearest statue’s head an experimental lick.
The taste was chalky and unpleasant, and the statue still didn’t react.
“Hmph,” I muttered. If they weren’t going to come alive and attack, what was I supposed to do here? My eyes flicked around for clues. No obvious exit besides the heavy double doors on the opposite side.
I walked over and planted my paws against the door. It was shut tight. I pushed harder, but it didn’t budge. Locked, of course, likely until I completed whatever trial this room had.
I stepped back and eyed the unmoving army surrounding me. I’d had enough riddles for one day.
I braced myself in front of the large stone doors. With a swift slash through the air, I used Claw Intent. Stone cracked as it was gouged out a jagged gash, large enough for me to squeeze through. Bits of stone door shrapnel clattered to the ground.
Satisfied, I shook off my paw and hopped through the newly made opening.
So much for that trial.
Beyond the door, there was torchlight again.
I came across piles upon piles of gold and jewels. I paused, momentarily taken stunned by the sheer amount of treasure that filled this place.
Mounds of gold coins glittered in uneven heaps. Gem-encrusted goblets and filigreed jewelry spilled from cracked chests. Ruby and emerald gemstones the size of my paw pads glimmered in the torchlight.
For a moment, I simply stood there, amazed at the display.
Any ordinary adventurer would be falling to their knees about now, stuffing pockets and packs with as much as they could carry. But I just sneezed at the dust and pawed forward, careful not to send any coins skittering under my paws.
I was a beast, a Godbeast. And shiny metal things like these held little appeal for me. Riches were beyond my taste; you can’t eat gold, after all, and it makes for a terribly hard bed.
If this was meant to tempt me with greed, the dungeon was going to be sorely disappointed.
Perhaps some future dungeon adventurer would appreciate it more than I did.
I made my way to the far end of the treasure chamber where another grand door awaited. Unlike the previous one, this door opened with relative ease when I pushed.
The next room was completely different; it was solemn and still. I stepped into what looked like a grand throne hall. Tall pillars lined the walls, and ragged banners hung limp in the stale air.
At the center, atop a raised dais of cracked marble steps, was an ornate throne. Seated upon that throne was something that made my ears perk and my tail stiffen in surprise.
It was a skeleton. A human skeleton, thin and desiccated, clad in the tattered remnants of what might once have been royal robes. A tarnished golden crown sat crooked on its skull.
Twin pinpricks of cold blue light flickered in its eye sockets, giving the lifeless face an eerie semblance of life. One bony hand gripped a rusted sword across its lap.
As I crossed the threshold, those blue lights flared and the skeleton slowly rose to its feet.
Joints cracked and scraped with each movement. When it spoke, its voice echoed through the chamber.
“You, who have passed the trials before this throne,” the skeleton intoned, pointing a bony finger in my direction. “One who has proven patience, wisdom, caution, leadership, and a lack of greed, I deem you worthy to stand before me. Now, you may challenge me, the final guardian, and claim your due.”
I stopped a few paces inside the hall, tilting my head quizzically.
To be honest, half the skeleton’s words were lost on me. Partly because I was a little distracted.
The way he spoke and the garments he wore made it seem like he was someone of importance, but all I saw was a walking pile of bones. And to a dog like me, especially one who hadn’t chewed on a good bone in around a while, it was one big distraction.
My gaze had zeroed in on the skeleton’s leg bones as he stood. They looked an awful lot like oversized chew toys just waiting to be gnawed.
I actually had to swallow; I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t salivating.
The skeleton was still talking, his jaw clacking with each pronouncement of challenge and honor. I caught something about “dignity” and “combat” and maybe “eternal rest”; it sounded echoey, but my focus was drifting.
How was I supposed to pay attention when, right in front of me, an entire skeleton was standing there unguarded? It had been, what, two years since I last chewed on a bone? Plenty of meat and meals, sure, but an actual bone to chew?
Not since after I got out of the Sacntum of Isolation.
In the end, I didn’t hear a single word of his grand speech, because all I could think about was bone. A walking bone, ripe for the taking.
