“Is Ye Lingfeng your name, and Feng your nickname?” Tianming asked.

“Yeah.”

“So, why’d you engrave your name here?”

“Because I’d forget my name otherwise.”

Tianming’s thoughts were a little jumbled, because this youth didn’t seem too smart. Pointing at the tombstones, Tianming asked, “Did you carve those names?”

“Yeah, so that I don’t forget their names,” said Ye Lingfeng.

“Do you know who they were?” Tianming asked.

“My people? Me?” Ye Lingfeng frowned. His eyes suddenly trembled. He gnashed his teeth and grabbed his head, rolling on the ground in pain.

“Are you alright?” Tianming quickly hurried over and helped him up.

“It’s okay. I’m already used to it,” said Ye Lingfeng. Unless he was in his ferocious mode, he looked blank most of the time, his mind befuddled.

“Have you forgotten about the Infernal Soul Race?” Tianming probed. He knew what the Infernal Soul Race had gone through. The soul sacrifice they had done had resulted in the death of eighty thousand, just to contribute to this youth. Ye Lingfeng must hate the Theocrats for it, and it just so happened that Tianming had a lot of dissatisfaction with the ruler of the Theocracy of the Ancients as well.

“The Infernal Soul Race?” Ye Lingfeng stared at Tianming, biting his lips.

“That’s...