It didn't take much effort to return to Windsor's cell again, but when the long-looking marshal saw the two of them, his expression was a little tangled.

Wendthor sniffed in his nostrils and leaned back a little to distance himself from the two adventurers. It may be that it feels impolite like this, so the marshal's action is extremely slight, but it was keenly captured by Diego.

"Is there something wrong?" Diego asked, a little confused, he hadn't realized how lethal his strong sour smell was. After spending so much time in that portal, he got used to the smells. This is the reason for living in abalone for a long time without smelling its smell.

"May I ask, where did you go?" Wendsol asked, a little embarrassed.

"Uh, this ......" Diego looked in pain that he didn't want to mention at all.

"Well, you know, we've sacrificed a lot for this information, and we've had to ...... in some places," the Night Elf next to him added understandingly, shrugging his shoulders with a look you know.

"Let's get down to business first," Diego quickly pulled the topic back, "Today is our lucky day, and we got it." He said smugly.

"Okay, give them to me." Wendsol forced a smile and said seriously.

Masrae took two stone tablets from his bag and handed them to the marshal. The latter took them in his hand and examined them carefully. After a few minutes, he looked up, his eyes flashing with an astonishing light.

"It's just that they're right," said the marshal with some excitement. He clenched them tightly in his hands, as if pinching the last hope of the entire kingdom, "With this, we will definitely make that woman manifest." ”

"Now, it's time to get out of this filthy place," Windsor said firmly, slowly rising from the ground, confident with confidence written on his face, as if he never feared failure, "before we can do that, we need to get my gear back." ”

"Do you know where they are?" Masrae asked, puzzled, as a prisoner, it was impossible to know where those things were stored.

"Of course, you know, it's not like I'm here doing nothing." Wendthor said triumphantly, pushing open the door and looking out, there was no one outside—Lokauer hadn't been around for a long time, and at the speed of the earth elemental creature, it would be a long time before he turned back here.

The group strode out of the passage, but there was still dead silence in the passage, and the prisoners inside were quiet, desperate that they didn't even have the curiosity to stand up and see who was passing by. Diego suddenly felt the urge to open all the prison doors, but his sanity prevented him from doing so. The most important thing for them now is to get Wendthor out first, this human body is related to the safety of the entire human kingdom.

They stopped in front of an iron gate. This is the storage room of the dwarven guards, and the items looted from the prisoners are left in this place. But in fact, the valuable ones have been privately divided among the guards, and only those that are worthless or unusable are left here. Sometimes, the guards of the Arena of Order would come here to pick up a few weapons and equipment for the gladiators who were about to take off.

The dwarves were so relieved that they didn't even put a few guards here. The escapees easily managed to open the not-so-solid wooden door.

It must be said that they were lucky, and in one corner of the room they found the marshal's armor - except for the long tasseled helmet. Probably because they didn't fit the dwarves' size, and because there were very few gladiators in the arena, they were left here all the time.

Wendthor's armor wasn't flashy, it was a set of Stormwind's standard guard armor. The iron-colored cast steel plate armor is riveted with a circle of blue copper border. The chest of his robe was painted with the same lion's head as on his shield, the only ornament on the unpretentious armor

Just as Wendsol bent down to equip the armor, Diego stopped him.

"I think we'd better not do that, although I believe that you are very strong, but it is clear that the guards here are not something that the three of us can solve, even if we add Guan Haifa." Diego said sincerely, he didn't want to kill all the way out, over there in the barracks, the angry Angover and Agamanch were looking for someone all over the world to put out the fire.

"So what are we going to do?" Wendsol straightened up and asked. He was interested in these two young men who had surprised him so much. He wouldn't mind giving it a try if their idea worked.

"It's simple, just two of us pretending to be jailers." Diego said confidently, to be honest, these routines have been repeated many times in the divine drama of the Celestial Empire in the previous life, and Diego is tired of watching it. Now I can use it at my fingertips, but I don't have any psychological burden at all. And for the IQ below the general level of the Black Iron Dwarves, this plan is not very difficult to implement.

"Are you sure it's possible?" The marshal asked incredulously, he always felt that the two young men's plans were better than the pretending to be a family wine.

"We've tried many times today, and we've never failed." The Night Elf echoed triumphantly. He has a lot of experience in how to get by, and he enjoys it.

"Well, then, we'll have to spare my enemies this time." Wendthor didn't have a better way, and said with regret, to be honest, he has made a few enemies here, just Diego knows, there is a blood crusader, a troll, an orc and a dwarf, I have to say, the marshal's ability to pull hatred is absolutely full value.

They walked out along the passageway, rather than past the interrogation hall where Gstahn was. Diego was sure that the woman would be the first to see through their tricks.

There were few guards in the passage, even fewer than the last time they came. It seems that their movements over the puppet assembly workshop have attracted the attention of the Black Iron Dwarves, and many of the guards have been relocated there.

Leaning on the gladiator insignia, they made their way up the hub hall. While many of the dwarven guards were puzzled by the strange trio of guards and prisoners (followed by a leopard), they were not suspicious. Grisestone, the impartial arbiter, is their best umbrella, and there are really very few black iron dwarves in this underground city who dare not to give face to this dwarven elder, especially for the prison guards, after all, the old man's arena gives them many opportunities to earn extra money.

Even if there are guards who don't have long eyes to find fault, Diego will move another great god.

"Inquisitor Lady Gstahn told us to send this prisoner to the mines, his good days are over." Diego winked at the dwarven guards and grinned. He tried to imitate himself as a sadist like Gstahn, looking fanatical and distorted.

"That's a pervert!" The Night Elf next to him couldn't help but shiver and whispered to himself in his heart.

Not only him, but the dwarven guards across from them clearly thought so, and he shuddered a few times and quickly got out of the way. That vicious human woman was terrifying even among the evil Black Iron Dwarves, and no one dared to imagine herself falling into her hands.

As for the foremen and guards of the mines outside, they didn't dare to scream. The Black Iron Dwarves who were assigned to guard the gates of this hellish place were all frustrated by the power struggle within Darkhearth, and they didn't even know what was going on in the city right now.

In this way, the adventurers walked out with a swagger all the way.

"We're coming out now?" Standing on the stone platform next to the lava lake, the marshal said in disbelief that he felt that this journey was more childish than playing at home. But the truth is, they came out like this, without much effort, like a realistic dream, but lacking a sense of realism that makes people's hearts feel grounded.

"Indeed, you are free," Diego reaffirmed the fact for him, "and now it's time for you to think about our next steps, Marshal." ”

Wendthor took a deep breath, as if to breathe in the free air, but the burning sensation of sulfur reminded him of what the hell this was. "Get out of here first, we're not completely safe yet." He said with emotion, and was the first to step on the bridge of the lower iron cable.

But just as the adventurers had just climbed the path carved out of the boulder, they heard a faint thud from the far depths below. They stopped and listened. When the echo died down, they continued to hear the sound of thump. It was like some kind of disturbing signal, but the sound quickly died down. But as they took another step, the voice sounded again.

"Unless my ears are broken, it must be the sound of war drums!" The Night Elf twitched his long ears and said firmly.

"That's right, you'd better believe the feeling of an old guy who has been locked up in a dwarven city for more than half a year, although I don't like it," Wendthor said with a frown, pulling the bag from behind and opening the bag, "It may have nothing to do with us, but I'd rather believe that the filthy black iron dwarves are coming after you, and it's time to put on my long-lost armor!" ”

"If I were you, I'd do that when I climb up to the flat ground above." Diego said kindly.

The marshal looked at the path, which was less than two meters wide, and decided to do as the hunter said, this was indeed not the place to do this. If you accidentally drop one or two pieces, it's not good.

They cautiously climbed up the stone path, but it wasn't long before they suddenly heard the drums beat again. This time, the drum beat was much louder, not from a confined space, but outside, and the drum was loud and clear, as if it were ringing in your ears.

Diego poked his head out of the edge of the stone path and saw that at the exit of the blackstone abyss below, countless black iron dwarves were swarming out like ants from an ant's nest, rushing down the chain bridge below.

"Well, hate to say that, but those Black Iron Dwarves found out that we escaped." Diego turned around and said regretfully to his friends, "We'll have to go faster." ”

"I'm not going to let these filthy black iron dwarves catch me again, they won't have this chance again, never." Windsor whispered, turning around and climbing up the stone path with his hands and feet.

It turns out that the speed at which a person runs does not always depend on the strength of the body or muscles. Just as people who are chased by mad dogs always run very fast, they quickly climbed the trail and entered the Tomb of Cast Iron.