Ritor was laughing with his son in his hands. Occasionally the minotaur tickled the little demon.
Lana, sitting on the sofa knitting a baby hat, smiled. Such a sight would be expected for a human to do, but it was surreal for a ferocious minotaur like Ritor to do it.
"Hey, look, babe." The general pointed out Ethan Jr. dangling from his arm. "He already has incredible strength."
Lana stopped what she was doing, then put her chin on her palm and widened her smile. "He will be a great warrior like you."
Ritor was silent, looking at his son climbing his fur. "Should he become a warrior like me?"
The general's wife frowned, not expecting such an answer to come out of her husband's mouth. "You don't want him to become a warrior? Isn't that great? He can carry on your legacy."
"I don't know. Going to war is hard. The risk of losing one's life is very high. I certainly don't want to lose him. You are, too, right?"