The trolls smiled and took the dagger, then exited the cell, and the gnome quickly ran over and locked the cell door with a chain. "Give them better food, bring some clothes and blankets. The trolls kicked the gnome and continued, "Give them more gold potions, it's good for the cold." ”

Siegel didn't get a chance to get out of here, but he had something more. First he had clothes, shabby clothes stuffed with feathers and hay stuffed in linen, then a clay pot for his daily porridge, and a basket made of thin bent branches, in which the gnomes would always put black bread as a plate. In addition to this, he was given a skin pouch every day, which contained enough "golden potion" to drink two sips.

The hum orcs had been preventing Siegel from drinking the Golden Potion, but had been oblivious to anything else. Siegel prepares his things and hides some useful materials in the sleeping corner. One day, Siegel lied that the soup was too light and that he had to put a lot of salt, but the next day he said that the cook must be a fool because he put too much salt. The dwarf casually agreed, but was grabbed by Siegel: "Tomorrow you help me bring me some salt, and I will add it to the porridge myself." Otherwise......"

Siegel didn't say much, he left a lot of room for the dwarf's imagination. The next day he had a small packet of coarse salt. So he broke off the dry branches from the basket, sprinkled the salt on them, and recited the incantation as he rubbed it. The branches quickly dehydrated and turned into grayish-black carbon.

'With charcoal, I can use most of the fire-based spells. Siegel made small cloth bags out of torn clothes, tied them tightly with loose threads, and stored charcoal in them. He made three of these packets, one to hide on his body, one in his sleeping place, and one in a snowdrift in the window. Snow is a natural desiccant that prevents water from seeping into the bag as long as it doesn't start to melt.

Ice was the easiest thing to get, and Siegel had clay pots, snow outside the window, and enough cold temperatures, so he had a few pieces of crushed ice. It's not the time to turn crushed ice into ice blades, and a lot of the work has to be done on the backs of orcs. Those green eyes are always glowing, and there is rarely time to rest.

Siegel managed to get some fat, which allowed him to store fat. He crumpled some of the linen threads and fluffed them up like broken cotton. The acquisition of nitrate is relatively time-consuming, and it is necessary to urinate on the wall every day, and after drying, scrape off the powdery crystals. Whenever Siegel did this, the orcs hid in the corner as if they had seen a ghost, and kept saying, "Humm, Hum." This discipline is rarely studied even in the Mage Federation, and most people will mainly focus on the practice of spells, so the cost of borrowing alchemy books is very low, which is suitable for Siegel. It's also fun to make your own spellcasting materials, but because of the lack of purity, you have to be extra careful when casting spells. However, with meditation, you can exercise both your brain and your hands.

Siegel patiently prepares, and he also finds dead spiders and beetle shells in his cell, and broken bones from food, which he carefully collects. The trolls came down once during this time and asked Siegel to reach out to see his injuries. With the help of healing potions, the wrist has begun to recover, and new flesh has gradually grown. The trolls thought it was the effect of the gold potion and nodded in satisfaction and left.

Siegel guessed that he might be taken out of the cell when he healed from his injuries. Although the things he prepared could be hidden in the key space, the new environment was not suitable for escape. He decided to try it out at night—all the materials were hidden with him.

The gnome carried a wooden bucket of porridge, and a fat clay pot with goat's milk, which was given to Siegel every three days. Siegel took his jar and walked over to fetch the goat's milk, "accidentally" breaking the jar.

"It's all my fault. Siegel said, "Why don't you hand me the jar in your hand?" ”

The jar for goat's milk was thicker than the gap between the railings, and the gnomes failed to stuff it several times. He subconsciously reached out and touched his waist, and then abruptly withdrew his hand. "I'll go get you a new jar, and I'll be there in a minute. ”

Well, the dwarf, with the key to his cell, was sure of this and went into action.

He nodded, his fingers touching the sand from the cracks in the rocks in the ground. He whispered the incantation, and saw the gnome staggering. Drowsiness struck, and then irresistibly conquered the gnomes. The goat's milk spilled on the floor, and the dwarf fell into a deep sleep.

Siegel smiled, he found the beetle's shell, kissed it on the mouth, and recited the summoning spell. A frost hardhorn worm appears out of thin air outside the cell door, violently rolling the dwarf's body to the railing. Siegel reached out and rummaged through the pocket that the dwarf had just reached out to reach, and sure enough, there was the key to the prison door.

"Want to get out?" said Siegel, looking at the orcs.

"Humm!" the orc stood up, standing honestly behind Siegel.

Dissolving the summoned beetle, Siegel turned the key, and the door was quickly opened. He reached for the chain that bound the door of the cell, which could be a good weapon like a whip. Naturally, Siegel did not forget the fragments of the crockpot on the ground, several of which were sharper and could be used as daggers temporarily. The two men stepped out of the cell, and although it was only a small step, it was a small step towards freedom.

"Do you remember the way when you were brought in?" Siegel asked.

"Humm!" the orc nodded, consciously walking ahead.

They first walked up a series of stone steps that spiraled upward, but fortunately the walls were lit by simple oil lamps, making it easy to walk. Siegel took another lamp, he didn't have dark vision like an orc. By the faint light of the oil lamp, he found that the rocks on the ground were very old, smooth and smooth after a long time of tampling. It takes a lot of polishing to form, but very few people come down from the cell. From this, Siegel judged that the cell was a later purpose, and that it was just an ordinary hallway.

At the end of the staircase was a locked iron bar, the railing was thin and rusty, and looked like it could be easily removed. However, Siegel stopped the orcs from doing so, so as not to alarm the guards. He took out the twine head and placed it next to the keyhole, and quietly recited the incantation as he went, and the twine head got into the keyhole like a tentacle, groped inside, determined the structure of the keyhole and the mechanism to be opened, and then attached to it and began to rotate. I heard a soft "pop", and the cell door opened.

The threads quickly burned and turned to ashes.

It's a thread that I managed to make with my fingers, but it can only withstand one cast. Siegel now misses soft cotton, which allows for easier and more precise casting of the spell, and the ability to reuse it multiple times. But now is not the time to be picky, and we don't know what the danger will be.

Not far behind the gate was a hall, dimly lit and smoky. Instead of using inferior oil lamps, there is a row of torches on the left and right walls, and the torch stands are the dry bones of human hands. The torch must have been filled with something like pine oil, so the rocks overhead were blackened. Not far away, there are two passages, one higher and the other flat and turning to the left. From the winding alley, the smell of gold potion wafted through, mixed with the aroma of ale and roasted meat.

Hum pointed to the higher passage, telling Siegel to follow him. The two men quietly moved forward, putting their steps very lightly. After thirty-six steep and sharp steps, Siegel heard a soft snoring in front of him, and looked over. An old man with a haggard figure and wrinkled skin was napping. He had a long white beard, a short wooden spear in his arms, and his old ragged clothes were stained with oil. He was napping in a very bad position, and he happened to block the passage. Hum motioned to strangle him, but Siegel waved his hand. He feared that if he didn't kill in an instant, the man's struggle might be heard. As a sentry post, there may be a hidden alarm device.

Siegel took out the dead spider in the palm of his hand, then gently rubbed the spider's corpse with his other hand, whispering a mantra. The corpses turned into green ointment under the effect of magic, and there were only very small piles. Siegel smeared it on his own hands, then onto Hum's palms.

The ointment has a warm sensation and is very coarse. This is a spider's ability to move on walls, but a weakened version of it in the absence of materials. It only provides the ability to climb with four hands for two people, and the duration is much shorter. Siegel demonstrates the magic of sucking it up from the ceiling, and the Hum Wrench will be suspicious and follow along. The two men stepped over the sleeping old man and continued to move upward.

Step by step, it seems that there is no end to the steps, what the hell is this place, is it in hell? Siegel can't help but wonder, is it that I am locked up in the depths of the earth, but what about the snow that drifts in through the window? Is it all an illusion that there is still sunlight during the day and stars at night? Siegel seems to have a similar feeling here after experiencing the torment of the illusion. He looked at Hum's back, silently following as he counted the number of steps. One hundred, he promised himself that if another hundred platforms were still climbing, then this was a fake, a trap.

By the time he had counted to sixty-two, the stairs had finally come to an end. An iron-clad stone door blocked the way. Hum put his ear to the door, listened carefully for a moment, then forcefully unscrewed the deadbolt and removed the entire stone door, and the two of them carefully lowered the door.

A hot air came from the other side, mixed with a huge smell of sulfur. Hum was the first to pass through the door, his back pressed against the wall, moving sideways. Siegel made it up the last few steps, finally understanding where they were.

It is the inner wall of a volcano, and if you look up, you can see a circular crater, and the starlight shines through the rising smoke. A spiral-shaped passage runs from top to bottom, all the way down to the lava layer at the base of the crater. The passage can accommodate a person to walk, but the environment here gives people an inexplicable sense of oppression, and in order to find a sense of security, everyone will unconsciously feel like a baked cake in the oven, with their backs pressed against the wall. Siegel looked down at the lava and saw dozens of flame lizards hunting inside. Their food is the fledgling fire elemental, and the lava here provides the necessary environment for elemental beings to condense and emerge, while also attracting fire predators. There is also an exit at the bottom of the spiral passage, larger and darker, which may be a passage for salamanders. Siegel looked up, and going out of the crater was the only option at the moment.