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One Hundred Forty-Nine

The red-haired Great Swordmaster narrowed his eyes at Santi. Minerva, who was on the side, couldn't help but be nervous. 

"Yeah, almost a hundred years had passed, yet you still hadn't changed a bit. You're still as brutal as ever."

Santi shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's one of my charms. Something that you didn't have."

Minerva snapped her head at her father. Seriously, He's still going at it? Dad was making him even angrier!

"Dad..."

She was about to say something when her father interrupted her by patting her head.

"Don't worry, he wouldn't dare to lay a finger on me, much less on you. If he did, I'd kick his virgin ass." Santi said, obviously trying to console her. Unfortunately, it didn't work at all. Instead, Minerva felt like crying inside. Why did her father keep on saying such things? And how in the world did he know about this?

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