Demon King, you just need to conquer, and your husband will come up with the solution.

He put down the spoon tremblingly. He did not wail or cry. He just held the dead baby and rocked it gently, as if he was coaxing the baby to sleep.

But after swaying for a while, the old troll finally stopped. Dead is dead, not sleeping.

As if accepting the reality, the old troll wrapped the dead baby in his arms so that his face could not be seen, and then tremblingly prepared to get up.

He muttered to himself: "All gone..."

"What?" The green-skinned troll heard the noise, looked up at the old troll who was about to stand up, his face full of confusion.

After getting up, the old troll glanced helplessly around with his unfocused eyes, muttering, "Ha... my wife is gone, my son is gone... ha... now my grandson is gone too.

I am the only one who is still alive... What am I still alive for? The people around me... are all gone... Devil... What’s wrong with you..."

When the green-skinned troll heard the old troll's long sigh, which was not even a wail, he noticed the dead baby in his arms. For a moment, the green-skinned troll held the bowl, his expression at a loss, not knowing what to say.

The old troll didn't care about the vermicelli soup in front of him. He turned around numbly, as if he had not been healed by Irons' "life" technique, and walked back towards the Troll Ridge with his zombie-like steps.

The green-skinned troll panicked when he saw this, and quickly stood up and called out, "Hey! Old man, what are you doing! Old man! This is the Demon King's City! The way out is this way! That way is a dead end!"

But the old troll just took stiff steps and muttered weakly: "I know... there is a way out over there... but there is no way out for me..."

The green-skinned troll quickly chased forward and advised: "Going back will mean death!"

"All I want is to die... I just want to die closer to home..."

Chapter 115

Memorial of the Dead

"Hey hey hey! Old man, what are you doing! Come back!"

The old troll's distracted behavior made the green troll immediately step forward to stop him.

"Don't stop me! Come here! You little bastard!"

But it was obvious that the old troll was ready to die, and was full of resistance to the green-skinned troll's obstruction. Although the red-skinned troll was old, he still had some strength.

As a result, the two trolls soon started to wrestle with each other. Irons was slightly startled and immediately prepared to use word magic to stop the conflict between the two.

However, someone dealt with it before Ains. Finia, who noticed the commotion, quickly rushed to the two trolls and violently pulled them apart.

Then a blow directly hit the old troll's head, causing him to faint. This was a simple and crude, but quite efficient way to resolve the conflict.

"Ha ha……"

The disheveled green-skinned troll panted as he climbed up from the ground. Looking at the unconscious old troll lying on the ground, he kept muttering, "This old guy is fucking crazy!"

The dispute between the two also attracted the attention of other hungry people around. A group of trolls came forward with soup bowls curiously to see what was going on.

When the green-skinned troll took the dead baby out of the old troll's arms, all the trolls showed expressions of surprise.

Apart from a slight hint of pity, there was more of a kind of numbness in his expression that was not surprised at all.

Obviously, this kind of thing has happened more than once among these hungry people. They have witnessed too many such tragic situations.

An elder troll with a cane walked forward, took a look at the dead troll baby that had already stopped breathing, smashed it, shook his head and said, "Tsk... What a sin, bury this kid..."

"Bury...bury where?"

"Find a place with a wide view and bury it facing north. Let this kid be able to see his parents and hometown. By the way..."

The troll elder touched the forehead of the dead baby in front of him, and then said to the other trolls around him: "What relics of your relatives who died on the road are still on you? Throw them all into the grave later. Let's build a mass grave."

As soon as the elder's proposal was made, it immediately aroused the approval and support of all the refugees. A group of refugees immediately took out some relics of their deceased relatives or friends from their pockets.

With the guidance of the elder, the green-skinned troll nodded, took out the relics of his relatives from his arms, and placed them in the arms of the dead baby.

Several young and strong trolls stepped forward and offered their services, expressing their willingness to help dig the hole to create the mass grave.

The mutual assistance among the trolls made Irons frown slightly, and at the same time, he also noticed some meaningful details.

That is, although this group of trolls were forced to flee Troll Hill, they still seemed to be attached to their homeland.

While Irons was thinking, Finia walked up to him and asked, "Mr. Irons, do you want me to help these trolls dig a pit? It's just a matter of one claw for me."

"...No, this is their business as a group of trolls. It is very important to them and does not require outsiders like us to interfere."

While Ains and Finia were talking, some of the refugees looked miserable and asked the troll elder, "Oh... old man, we don't have any of our family's belongings left with us, what should we do?"

The expressions of these refugees, who had no relatives' belongings left behind, were filled with helplessness and anxiety.

Seeing that everyone else was able to produce relics, but they were the only ones who could not produce any relics to commemorate their loved ones, they naturally fell into panic and anxiety.

The old troll was at a loss for this situation. He suggested, "Well... you can make something to represent your relatives. As long as you can put your hopes into it, even if it's not their personal belongings, it can still represent them."

The old troll's suggestion was indeed good, but it made the refugees feel troubled. After all, they had no experience in making souvenirs.

Moreover, in such a state of panic, helplessness and confusion, it is somewhat difficult for these refugees to calm down and make some souvenirs to represent their loved ones.

"But... old man, we don't know how to make that kind of thing..."

"Yes, old man... my child who died halfway through his life just passed away after being given a name. I didn't even take a closer look at him, wuwuwu..."

Listening to the helpless questions of these refugees, the troll elder was also in a dilemma. What should he do...

"You... still remember the names of your relatives, right?"

Just when the troll elder was in distress, Irons finally stepped forward and asked.

“Remember… remember, remember.”

"Of course I remember! How could I forget?"

Listening to the refugees' positive response, Irons nodded and smiled gently, suggesting: "That's easy, let's commemorate them with their names. Nothing can better represent them than a name, right?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, Master Vampire, your idea is good! But, Master Vampire, we are all a bunch of rough people and we can't write..."

"Hey, I remember that among the demons that traveled with us, there seemed to be a succubus who could read and write?"

"Khan, you know that demon is a succubus. The succubus's small body can hardly make it this far. She starved to death halfway through the journey."

The trolls' concerns were apparently nothing. Irons smiled and comforted them, "This is easy. I'll write it."

As he spoke, Irons took out a feather pen from his bosom and suggested, "How about this, you tear off a piece of cloth from your clothes or something, and I will write the names of your relatives on it."

Hearing this, the refugees were ecstatic. They all knelt down and bowed to Ains. Such a generous gift was too much for Ains, so he quickly stepped forward to stop it.

However, these refugees obviously did not refuse to worship just because Ains said no. Seeing that he could not stop them, Ains could only let them express their gratitude in this way.

The troll elder also walked up to Ains with a gleam in his eyes and thanked him, "Thank you, Master Blood, for taking pity on us trolls who are fleeing.

But don't blame me for being suspicious, old man. Why do you want to help us refugees who are of a different race from you?"

Irons smiled slightly, having anticipated this inquiry, and he opened his mouth to "explain": "Old sir, please don't call me master, I'm still young~hahahaha.

As for why I help you, it's very simple, I've walked the same path you're walking on now."

"You've been there too!?" The troll elder was startled, his eyes full of disbelief.

Ains nodded seriously, made an extremely sincere expression and said: "Yes, I fled all the way from the blood clan's territory to the Demon King's City, and suffered a lot along the way.

After arriving at the Demon King's City, I had no relatives or connections, and I had to sleep on the street at night using rags from other people's shacks as blankets. Wild dogs passing by would bite me.

At this time, it was a troll brother who gave me food and pointed out the way out, so that I could be where I am now! So, I made up my mind that if I could meet a troll brother in the future, I would definitely help him if I could! "

Irons had already prepared this nonsense in mind, and coupled with his superb acting skills, it was no problem for him to fool the elder in front of him, so that the elder would not suspect anything.

After expressing their gratitude, the refugees excitedly tore off strips of cloth from their already tattered clothes and rushed to hand them to Irons.

The elder couldn't help but frown at the messy behavior, and he shouted at the refugees: "How can you behave like this? How can you be so messy? Line up properly!"

The words of the troll elder were still very valuable. After he scolded them, all the trolls shrank their necks, looked timid and became quiet.

"Ah... I'm so sorry, Master Vampire..."

Irons smiled and waved his hands indifferently, saying: "It doesn't matter, old man. I was no different from them at the beginning. I can understand their feelings..."

"..." Looking at Ains' gentle smile, the old troll opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but in the end he sighed.

"Ugh……"

"What's the matter, old man?"

"Nothing... I was just thinking... The demons of our species are oppressing us, enslaving us, and forcing us to this dead end. If they only needed to give us more food and let us breathe, we wouldn't be in this situation...

However, demons from different races, who are strangers to us, are helping us and saving our lives...

Master of the Blood Clan, what do you think happened to this Demon Realm? "

Three nine two five nine ○э19

Chapter 116

Their name

Irons helped the refugees, who were unable to leave any of their loved ones' belongings behind, write down the names of their loved ones.

Although these refugees were basically illiterate, when they received the cloth strips handed back by Ains, they still looked at the cloth strips with their names written on them over and over again as if they had found a treasure.

Yes, they couldn’t read, but at this moment, they knew what their loved ones’ names looked like.

Just as Irons wrote the name of the last refugee on the cloth strip, he saw a troll woman holding a swaddling cloth standing not far from him.

The troll woman looked a little uneasy. She tried several times to muster up the courage to take a step towards Irons, but in the end she took her feet back.

But she was reluctant to turn around and leave, and for a while she kept pacing strangely.

Ains noticed the troll woman's abnormality. After thinking for a while, he walked up to her and asked, "You noticed that you were looking at me just now. Do you have any request?"

Facing Ains's question, the troll woman was at a loss and stammered in response: "That... that, that master... I, I want... I want you to help write my son's name on it...

"Of course." Irons did not refuse, took the swaddling cloth from the troll woman, and then asked: "What is your son's name?"

"..." The troll woman was embarrassed when she heard this. She bit her lip and remained silent for a long time before finally telling the truth: "Master of the Blood Clan... my son died before he was even given a name..."

Irons was slightly stunned, and his hand holding the quill paused. After a moment of silence, he nodded and said, "I see... Then, what are you going to do?"

"I... I don't know how to name my child. My husband died on the way and didn't leave a name for the child... So, Master, how about you help me name my child?"

Faced with the troll woman's request, Irons did not refuse. He nodded and agreed, "Of course, it's my honor... What is the child's last name?"

"Um...last name, what is it?"

The troll woman's question silenced Ains, and he looked at the troll elder beside him for help.

The troll elder came forward with his cane and said, "Master of the Blood Clan, we trolls are not like you blood clans, with surnames passed down. We only have a given name, no surname."

"No last name? I see..." Irons nodded in understanding, and then asked the troll woman: "Then can I ask what your and your husband's names are?"

"Me? My name is Miranda and my husband's name is Santana."

"Miranda, Santana... Well, how about I name this child Sanda?"

"Sanda? Okay! Sure, sure! Master of the vampire clan! Just call me Sanda!"

The troll woman did not know what the name Sanda meant, but from the pronunciation it was obvious that the name was a fusion of her own name and her husband's name.

The child was the fruit of the love between her and her husband, so she naturally couldn't be more satisfied with such a name.

With Miranda's consent, Irons wrote Sandra's name on the swaddling cloth and then returned it to Miranda.

The troll Miranda took the swaddling cloth with trembling hands and stared at the name written on it, as if she wanted to completely imprint this name in her mind.

Miranda stroked the swaddling cloth over and over again without getting tired of it, her breathing became a little choked, and finally, she knelt down and bowed directly to Irons.

As for this great gift, Irons felt that he had already gotten used to it. He did not refuse it this time, after all, for this group of refugees who had nothing.

Kneeling down to express gratitude does not mean abandoning their dignity. On the contrary, kneeling down to express gratitude may be their only dignity.

After bowing, Miranda left Irons' side, clutching the swaddling cloth and muttering Sanda's name.

When Miranda left, other refugees came over, holding their relatives' belongings, and gathered around Irons with expectation and pleading.

"Master of the Blood Clan...can you help me write my wife's name on it..."

"Master, my father left food for me and starved to death, but I still don't know how to write his name... Can you write my father's name on the bowl?"

"Master Vampire, I...I want to know how to write my own name..."

The troll elder beside him saw this and banged his cane in frustration, shouting, "All of you! Are you pushing your luck? Go back! Go back!!!"