Namen quickly fell to his knees in the corner and picked out a handful of straw that was both long and strong. He ripped a few threads from the base of his worn cloak and tied the straw into the shape of a small figure about three inches tall.

Immediately afterward, he plucked out another eyebrow and pressed his saliva against the scarecrow's head, then reached into his boot and pulled out a bright red bandana. Then, he bit through a soft sac hidden under his tongue.

Shiny, transparent gas flowed from his mouth, like the color of the grease on the surface of the water in the sunlight. Namen could feel the magical power within. The little scarecrow twitched, absorbing the mana in it.

In Namen's hand, half of the bright red turban turned gray. He leaned over - recalling the spell-engraved message on the turban - and completed the final step of awakening: giving instructions.

"Get the keys. He said.

The Scarecrow Man stood up and raised his only eyebrow at Namen. Namen gestured to the jailer's lounge, and an exclamation could be heard from inside. Those guys didn't have much time, he thought to himself.

The little spell puppet soon returned, crawling up the window of the cell door, carrying a large set of keys. The villain's straw feet were stained with red.

In the lack of light, the bright red was particularly dim. He took the key. "Thank you," he said. This is one of the few habits of Nammon, which seems meaningless, but it has been the mantra of the contract demon for thousands of years.

He touched the straw man's chest, and the little spell puppet was immediately disspelled and fell on its back. Its vitality wore out quickly, and the shouting in the jailer's lounge died down.

Nadoorknob reached out of the bar, and opened the cell door with the key. He pushed open the thick door and burst into the hallway, picking up the duffel bag that the jailers had discarded in the corner.

However, instead of going to the jailer's lounge, which was the only way out of the dungeon, he headed deeper into the dungeon. This is the information provided by the pieces of paper in the duffel bag.

The markings on the pieces of paper are not "ghost drawings" at all, but a type of writing often used by the Joms pirates. Few of the city-states on the Ramsay continent knew how to use this script, let alone the Usang jailers who were not inhabitants of this plane in the first place.

However, as a contract demon, he was born with the ability to understand all kinds of languages. This little test set for him by the dwarf and the electric monk was almost tailor-made, and was easily resolved by Namen.

"I really know King's Landing very well," Namen thought to himself, looking at the few letters, "I've worked in Soft Maple for many years, and that Oak Fist probably knows everything about this area. ”

It turned out that the pieces of paper detailed a plan in Jomsian pirate script: Abrost and Oak Fist first apologized for knocking Namen unconscious, and then recounted why they had sent him to the dungeon of King's Landing.

“...... For security reasons, the underground Soul Tomb will definitely be built closer to the rock formation. Otherwise, with the water content of the loam soil in this coastal area, it will not take a year or two for the underground buildings to be flooded...... There is only one location to choose from, and that is the site of the Whitepaper Tower, the tallest building in Soft Maple, which is now the prison of King's Landing......"

“...... Underneath the death row, there is a cell dedicated to the torture of prisoners. Once there, the spell engraved on the red scarf will give you all the tools for tomb robbing...... If you make it out of the dungeon alive, you can join your accomplices, and we've screened them. You're lucky that they didn't betray even after seven days of disconnection......"

That's nature. When Namen read the letter, he felt a little amused in his heart. How can those so-called "accomplices" betray the devil who has signed a hell contract with them? Even if they have that kind of superhuman courage, their strength does not allow it!

When he finished reading the letters, it seemed that some hidden trick had been triggered, and the pieces of paper burned to ashes.

Namen descended the stairs to the torture cell at the bottom of the dungeon. He is actually no stranger to this place. In the early years of King's Landing, apart from the half-lich Snead, he came here to preside over the work the most often.

It's just that in recent years, due to a lot of miscellaneous things, and those "stupid and bold" have not been as old as in the first few years, he hasn't been here for a long time.

Ignoring the racks of torture instruments, many of which had given the contract demon a brief moment of pleasure, he walked straight to the deepest part of the torture cell and stopped in front of a large stone wall that seemed to have been drained of color.

He pulled out the red turban. In order to ensure that the plan could be carried out step by step, the electric monk deliberately divided it into two groups when he engraved the priest's spell.

The conditions for the first set of "Activation" to be cast are simple: Namen only needs to remove the red bandana from his boots. To activate the second set of spells, he had to recite a secret word, and it was written on the Joms Pirate letterhead.

"Thou shalt be the ...... I need"

The words were uttered in pure Joms's coden, and the only color left on the red turban quickly faded, turning into a gray linen rag. Namen felt the weight on his hands weigh a lot.

"Concealment," he nodded, tossing the rag aside, and gently lowering the rattan suitcase he was holding on the ground.

It was a prop that Nammon had carefully prepared to play the role of a tomb robber, and it had been entrusted to a core "gang" to keep safe. Apparently, the electric monk and the gnome had already gone to the man and retrieved the toolbox without incident.

Namen handled it with care because he knew exactly what was in this rattan suitcase. There are a few bottles of alchemy solution that can't stand the bump, and the slightest violent impact can cause them to detonate, blowing everything around them into flames before burning them to the ground.

"Fierce Fire Oil, Thor Stonewalkers' Glands, Dried Bat Dung Powder, A Little Ironthorn Vine Seed......"

Pour several ingredients into a stone bowl and carefully take out a glass stir bar to mix well. Namen ended up using a solution called a "self-boiling alchemy solvent" and brewed it into a bowl of bubbling dark blue liquid.

He took a small brush made of beech wood and bristles from his rattan suitcase, dipped the bowl of liquid, and smeared it little by little on the dull gray wall.

In order to allow the solution to fully penetrate the walls, Namen brushed it several times, and an entire bowl of alchemical solution was only smeared with an area about the size of a person passing sideways.

A "crack" was made in the dark blue solution on the dark gray walls. He took out a few spherical bottles made of glass from his rattan suitcase, put them into a deerskin duffel bag, and then carried his single-edged axe into his hand.

"Smack, smack, slap......"

Gently bumping the edge of the axe handle against the "gap" would sparkle faintly each time, and the dense iron-thorned vines that grew in the walls would burn the ashes of the city.

Eventually, after a dozen blows, the "crack" turned into pieces of gravel and scattered all over the ground.