Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

Chapter 255: Eyes and Mouth in the Jar
"I think the main question is: Who would want a scroll of fireball that is triggered by high temperatures?"

After listening to Ron's explanation, not to mention Elden and his three disciples, even Sylvia was a little confused: "With this kind of scroll, the fireball may explode in your hand before you can even throw it out - is the protective flame wholesale or what?"

"In the past, during the war, some lords tried to attach scrolls with similar triggering methods to boulders and use catapults or air forces to bombard enemy positions or city walls to reduce the burden on the mage army," Elden rubbed his face sadly, "but those were all tactical weapons, and they were eliminated after less than a hundred years of use."

"After all, catapults are not easy to move and air forces are too expensive. The scrolls themselves are not easy to store, and in war, it is often the case that one loses a thousand of one's own money for every thousand of the enemy's losses. In the end, most forces reached a consensus: let the spellcasters suffer a little more." Seeing that the dean had no intention of explaining further, Gordon shrugged and added.

"But these problems are not so fatal to you." Elden felt that the hair on his head seemed to have regained some luster and color. "You use a bow instead of a crossbow. The gap between loading ammunition is very short. It is difficult for the opponent to seize the opportunity to detonate your arrows before they are shot out. This is especially true if you have a quiver with a dimensional bag attached."

"The only drawback is that the cost of arrows like yours will inevitably be high, and the timing of their use is also quite demanding, unless you are prepared to let your companions die every time you shoot an arrow."

"There will always be opportunities, and as my understanding of the arcane becomes deeper, such opportunities will only increase." Ron smiled, "But you did hit the nail on the head: to make such an arrow, not only strength but also luck is required. As long as one of the participants makes a mistake, we have to start all over again."

"It shouldn't be that serious, right?" Victoria said, "At least the alchemical potions and scrolls inside you..."

"It's not that easy," Ron carefully reassembled the arrow in his hand and put it back into the quiver. "To achieve the standard just now, the wall of the alchemical potion container must be thin enough, and the handwriting on the scroll must be small and delicate. You just saw their size. Once they are placed in the groove, the next time they are 'taken out' must be the moment of the explosion. Any attempt to take them out will destroy them and make them ineffective."

Ron looked at the people who were gradually falling silent, and gradually stopped smiling. "I know what you are thinking: it is unstable, has poor repeatability, and is very expensive. It is not something worth boasting about. It is far from enough, right?"

"But don't worry too much. Just like the spell model I'm studying, I believe there is still room for improvement. I think I should be able to--"

"Shh! Shh ...

Sera interrupted Ron's expression without any hesitation: "Ron, Sister Sera begs you not to use your mind to guess our thoughts, okay?"

"Not enough?! You actually think it's not enough?!" Sera blushed, "What is this, shooting a fireball with one arrow?! You think this is not enough! Are you crazy? No one here would think so! This is more than enough!"

"What else do you want?"

The barbarian kicked Elden, who was squatting on the ground, covering his face and thinking: "I'm talking to you, say something! You don't think this thing is 'not enough', do you?"

"You can kick me to death if you hit me harder, you know? Do you know how old I am?" Elden glared at Sera unhappily, and then when he looked at Ron, the old dean sighed again, "Is it enough... Next, you can consider changing to another Deep Silver Arrow. I saw the bracelet on your wrist."

"Honestly, why don't you consider not being a lord? I still have some face, so I can write a letter of recommendation to suggest that you go to a better college for further study."

"I have no doubt about your ability. After all, with what you have now, it is enough for you to graduate from any college in the world. If you work harder, you can even stay here to teach."

"What's so good about this place? You have no future here, come with me! I can help you and give you something better that you deserve and should have!" When Elden said this, his eyes were sincere without a trace of distracting thoughts. Ron had no doubt that this dwarf, who had not yet recovered from the influence of depigmentation, had absolutely no selfish motives when he said the above words.

After all, even if Ron really followed his advice, he wouldn't give him a chance.

"But I think you also know that this is impossible." Ron smiled and rejected Elden's proposal. "My friends are all here. I think I have already got what I 'deserve more'."

"As for the other reason, I personally have no plans to continue attending the academy."

Everything should be done in moderation. He has been in the academy for quite a while. Can he do it again? Ron declined the offer.

The "ivory tower" is like a besieged city. When it has sufficient resources, people outside want to get in and people inside want to get out. But when the conditions inside become bad, people inside want to get out, and people outside are scared!
However, Ron naturally couldn't tell Elden what was in his heart, so when heard from outsiders, his humble words took on a different meaning.

“Hahahaha! Old dwarf, don’t even think about persuading people to leave. It’s impossible!” A hoarse female voice came from somewhere. “This is a cursed land. Everyone wants to be a gambler and flock to it! They want to find everything they want here!”

"But there is nothing here, only conspiracy and death! But no one will listen! They all think they are the most special one!"

"The kingdom was like this, the elf was like this, and he is like this too! He deserves to die here. This is his fate!"

The voice laughed strangely, without any intention of hiding its position. Ron and his friends followed the sound and knocked on a secret door wrapped by tree roots, and walked into a secret room. There, with the light of the eternal flame, Ron and his friends saw the "thing" that was talking.

It, or rather she, was soaked in a jar like a pickled cucumber, without a head or face, only a pair of eyeballs with nerves connected and two chattering lips. The latter opened and closed in the jar, constantly making loud and mocking shouts, which did not stop until Ron and the others found this place.

"You are..." Ron picked up the jar uncertainly and shook it up and down violently. The contents inside collided with the container wall, making a "clang" sound. "You can't be--"

"Polly! Rotten Polly!" the mouth spoke again, "I am so touched, dear lord, that you can still remember a humble hag!"

"Whether you came all the way here to rescue me or not, can I ask you for a small favor? Just open the jar. My stupid mother has hoarded enough materials here. I should be able to regain my freedom!"

"But I also know that there is actually no friendship between us. If my kind lord is unwilling to have mercy on an old woman, just kill me!"

"Please stop shaking this jar. I am imprisoned here, unable to live or die. I really can't bear the pain any longer..."

(End of this chapter)