The farmer tucked the blacksmith's dagger into his belt, then dragged the blacksmith's body to the side of the pit. The blacksmith had a limp, and his neck was a bloody mess; it was a gruesome sight. The poet also found Rose's body; her limbs were intact, but she had several teeth marks on her neck, and her clothes were torn to shreds.
After everyone had finished their tasks, the poet came over.
"Is that... the name of the remaining one?"
Ellie looked at Yun Zhe strangely. Yun Zhe coughed and said, "My name is Yun Zhe, not Yu Zhe."
The poet nodded with relief; he had never believed that Yu Zhe was his real name. Yun Zhe, that name was more fitting for someone like him.
“I will write a poem to thank you for your help,” the poet said, blushing slightly. “I will sing your story among the Aruru people so that they will not forget what you did tonight.”
Yun Zhe panicked, immediately regretting his impulsive revelation of his real name. He quickly interrupted the poet. He didn't want the poet to recite his name, but looking into the poet's sincere eyes, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
Yun Zhe patted the poet on the shoulder and thought of a solution. “What’s so special about one person’s story? If you want to write one, write an epic of the Aluru people to record your great achievements from the past to the founding of your nation. Wouldn’t that be more worthy of commemoration and being sung?”
The poet, upon hearing this, looked slightly disappointed, then scratched his head. "Aruru people, there's nothing worth singing about yet."
Yun Zhe shook his head. “You escaped from all directions with great difficulty back to the country you established. Isn’t that something worth writing about? You led everyone to the border. Isn’t that also something worth writing about? Even he,” Yun Zhe pointed to the Aruru vampire nailed to the ground, “can also appear as a clown in your epic.”
The poet nodded thoughtfully.
"Go and write it, go and write an epic that belongs to the Aluru people. If you feel that your strength alone is too small, then go and write this epic together with all the Aluru people." Yun Zhe's voice gradually rose, making it possible for all the Aluru people present to hear it.
"I believe that one day, an epic of the Aluru people will be passed down on this western continent." Yun Zhe encouraged him kindly and patiently, "Write it, just don't let my name appear."
The poet's eyes brightened instantly, and he seemed to nod as if he saw the epic book.
"I will definitely write that book," the poet said solemnly, then turned and walked a few steps before adding the last sentence.
"Your name must be in that epic, Mr. Yun Zhe."
Yun Zhe felt bitter inside, but his face was still full of encouraging smiles.
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