Monaine was more serious than expected.

He grabbed Viretta's hand firmly, his face a mixture of desperation and warmth as he poured out his feelings.

"Iola is my son, but he has been a troublemaker since he was little. A son of the Naijin family should love hunting and revel in victory, but he’s a soft-hearted kid who worries about the feelings of the defeated."

"Ah, so that’s the kind of child he was," Viretta replied.

"Iola is like the flower of Naijin. The pinnacle of a hundred years of mercenary city’s essence. He’s my son, but he's a genius."

He was a superior warrior, surpassing even the strongest mercenary captain of Naijin, and a brilliant inventor who developed many cruel war machines.@@novelbin@@

There was nothing lacking in him, so everyone held high expectations for him.

Some even lamented that, because he was the son of Naijin, he would never be able to lead the city.

"But he’s wasting his talent, walking the path of academia. If he had become a mercenary, he would have been undefeated, or if he had become a general, he would have expanded the land of Saha by twice."

Monaine gritted his teeth, showing his frustration.

For a father whose genius son was about to graduate from five faculties in just four years, his words were harsh.

Viretta pondered how to respond to Monaine’s words.

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