The Bitter Prison itself was actually an underground ice cave on an island reef, guarded by a Frost Atronach.
Prisoners were held in square iron cages, with four cages crammed into the small cave; three of them even contained skeletons, prisoners from who knows how long ago, appearing to be decades old.
The Frost Atronach was intelligent and could recognize specific magical energy fluctuations, and the prisoners' shackles and guards' pendants were specially made to allow the Frost Atronach to confirm their identities—a mage's work, of course.
The Bitter Prison also had a history, representing a compromise that once occurred, but unfortunately, it failed to prevent relations between the two sides from deteriorating like an avalanche.
"Quite good," Simon nodded.
The cave was beautiful, with daylight filtering through the ice from above, making it crystal clear and azure; if it weren't for the cold, it would be quite poetic.
Torine, seeing Simon looking around, suddenly said with a touch of sadness, "Disappointed, aren't you? I also wanted to find a nice place to talk with you, but I really couldn't find one.
It's too noisy in the tavern, and on the coast, the wind would make you unable to speak.
Where else could I take you? Winterhold is small and shabby…"
The Troll turned to look at her, his fierce, inhuman features still instilling fear even when expressionless, unless one met his eyes.
Beneath his half-closed eyelids, his dark pupils were as deep as a pool, with a faint white reflection on the surface, and the corners of his eyes curved slightly downwards, carrying a hint of a smile.
He was a man who gave a great sense of security.
If security were a commodity, Simon could certainly get rich by selling it.
Torine lowered her head, her faint bitter smile hidden by her hair.
Simon raised his hand and patted her shoulder, "Things will get better."
"I want to go to Solitude and invite the old man Carada back.
He has always had a good impression of the College, and I hope to use him to break the sixty-year-old ice that has shrouded us…"
"If you think of it, go do it."
The Troll nodded, "We should head back.
I also need to go on a long journey, bringing Jonas with me, there's something I need to do."
The boy was startled but said nothing.
Torine asked how to handle matters like the food store, and Simon shrugged, saying it would be temporarily closed.
...
In The Core, Simon placed Septimus Signus in the house, locking him with a Five-Ring Interlock.
The female buckle was enchanted with a paralysis spell, leaving the old man immobile and completely unconscious.
Afterward, the Troll took Jonas to his magic laboratory.
"Originally, I didn't plan to take you to the ruins because I was afraid you'd get hurt."
Jonas pouted, "I'm very powerful too."
"It's easy to dodge an open spear, but hard to guard against a hidden arrow."
Simon walked to a wooden cabinet, gently opened it, revealing a tall, silver-white External Armor inside.
The third-generation External Armor, completed in half a year, had a total of four layers and was very complex.
The innermost layer was still a Necromantic Skeleton, used for auxiliary control.
The third layer was magical energy meridians, a piping system that ran through all four layers, supplying power to all the enchanted arrays.
The second layer was a steam power system.
A mechanical Core in the center of the chest regulated movement, applying extra thrust to every action of the wearer, making it truly devastating in combat.
The steam furnace was in the waist and abdomen, heated by fire spell enchantments, and the water tank was designed in a ring shape to achieve maximum capacity.
The cooling system was on the back, enchanted with frost spells to condense superheated steam and cool the entire armor, preventing the wearer from being scalded.
The outermost layer was weapons and a protective layer, designed with hidden weapon launchers, automatic sword scabbards, spring claw knives, and a holy aura enchanted chest plate specifically for undead creatures, and a holy scorching enchanted spear, covering all bases.
The helmet, of course, was a combination of enchanted monitors, a classic design that could be used for several generations.
With such a set of armor, traversing Skyrim was not a problem; cutting through an army seven times was not an issue, as long as one didn't encounter those god-like individuals, it was generally very safe.
The internal space of the entire armor was relatively small, actually quite similar to a mech.
Its appearance was majestic and severe, without the superfluous steam backpack, looking very powerful, like an impregnable iron fortress.
It was a tall, silver-white metallic humanoid, with armor stacked like muscles, hydraulic pipes like sinews and bones, a broad back and sturdy waist, thick, pillar-like feet, standing tall and proud, carrying a long spear on its back and a sword scabbard at its waist, like a sci-fi knight.
It was just that the staff manufacturing and loading technology was not yet mature, otherwise, cold weapons would not be needed, and it would be a simple matter of just blasting with cannons.
Jonas's eyes widened.
He had been to The Core many times but had never seen anything like this.
"What is this?"
"My design, my creation, and also a gift for you."
Simon smiled, "I call it the 'Little Boy'."
"For me?"
Simon clapped his hands, and Number Ten, attached to the Little Boy, began to move.
Blue ghostly flames gently emerged from the helmet, as if it were wearing a gas stove, but it looked quite mysterious.
The mechanisms on the front of the entire armor opened one by one, the armor lifted, revealing the internal space, which perfectly fit Jonas's body.
The Breton Boy was a little flustered, "Sir, this is the research you mentioned, it's amazing!"
"More than that.
Once you grow up, you'll be able to participate in my projects."
"Haha, then I'll definitely be your capable assistant!"
The boy entered the armor, and Number Ten gently closed the armor.
"I feel great!"
Jonas's voice, amplified by a spell, boomed far away.
Simon smiled and clapped his hands again.
A platform on the floor of the experimental area opened, revealing an internal cavity.
A massive twenty-foot mech leaped out from underground.
Its complex mechanical structure opened like a blooming epiphyllum.
The Troll leaped into the internal space, the armor closed, and when it stood on the ground, it was like a building.
"This is called the big ivan!"
The words were louder than a thunderstorm, and the ground trembled from the sound waves.
The Little Boy looked up at the big ivan, speechless.
This was too fierce!
...
Two days later, people walked to the food store's door, looking at the 'closed' sign that had been hanging for seven days, sighing.
"Foodie, when will you be back?!"
At this moment, Simon, riding a steam Necromantic Motorcycle, with Jonas, had already reached their destination, deep in the snow-covered mountains southwest of Winterhold.
Amidst the deep snow, on steep slopes, stone towers were half-exposed.
The brass tiles on the tower tops had been pried clean.
Now, many wooden houses could be seen around these towers, with dozens of humans active, and firelight emanating from the gaps in doors and windows.
"Child, suit up and kill them all."
Simon's tone was flat.
"Killing people? Alright."
"You don't ask why?"
"What Sir says is always right."
Simon smiled and shook his head, "I'm not always right, and I'm not a kind person.
In the future, you'll have to learn to distinguish some things for yourself."
"Then why should we kill them?"
"Humans die for wealth, birds die for food."
"So, it's because they covet this dwarven ruin that we have to kill them?"
"No, what I mean is, I am coveting them."
The Troll said meaningfully.
Jonas: "???"
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