Chapter 75 Control-Type? 1

The crowd let out a soft murmur of disbelief, like a wave gently lapping against the shore. Then, someone spoke up, their voice laced with skepticism.

"White light? Doesn't it represent...that?" Their words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken implications, like a dark cloud threatening to burst.

However, before anyone could dwell on the thought, another voice cut in firmly, shooting down the idea. "No! We must be mistaken! How could His Highness, with his unparalleled 13 soul pockets and rare talent, awaken a control-type soul plate?"

The words were like a ray of sunshine piercing through the clouds, bringing hope and reassurance.

Despite the reassurance, there was a sense of unease lingering in the air, like a thick fog settling over the group, shrouding them in uncertainty.

Matthew couldn't help but snicker softly at their naivety, like a mischievous sprite playing a prank on the mortals.

"There's no mistaking it," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, like honey oozing from a jar. "It's not like we're all having a collective hallucination."

Lady Rosaline, ever composed, kept her emotions in check as she scrutinized the soul plate with a critical eye.

"It's indeed a Control-type," Lady Rosaline finally uttered, her voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

The onlookers' murmurs grew into a chaotic hum as the implications of Lady Rosaline's words sunk in. Control-type Soul Plates were known to be the weakest of all soul plate types. The fact that not a single crown prince or patriarch of the Frost Clan had ever possessed one only added to the gravity of Evan's situation.

Evan's soul plate, a Control-type, seemed to be a curse rather than a blessing. Like dark clouds looming in the distance, his future appeared bleak, and he was bound to lose his position unless a miracle happened.

Despite the pitiful and mocking gazes aimed his way, Evan refused to feel defeated.

His eyes flickered with a fierce determination as he silently vowed, 'I will fight tooth and nail to maintain my position and ensure that history does not repeat itself.'

Evan's fingers curled into tight fists, his conviction palpable. He was resolute in his quest to obliterate all dead flags and change his fate for the better. He had a spark of hope burning inside him, and he was determined to ignite it into a raging flame that would change his destiny forever.

The fierce determination that burned in Evan's eyes did not go unnoticed by Lady Rosaline. She stepped closer to him and gave him a small but reassuring smile, her hand finding its way to his shoulder.

Lady Rosaline squeezed his shoulder and spoke softly, "Do not be disheartened, Your Highness. While Control-type soul plates may be considered the weakest of all soul plates, they are still soul plates. If you learn to use it properly, you will not be disappointed."

"Thank you, Lady Rosaline," Evan replied, a small smile spreading across his lips. "I know that Control-type soul plates aren't particularly strong, but I'm not disappointed at awakening one. When used to its fullest potential, it is better than most."

However, Evan's optimism was met with scoffs and jeers from Mathew, Jack, and several others. But Evan refused to let their mocking words deter him.

'I will prove them wrong.'

The results of the soul plate awakening ceremony were immediately announced to the crowd gathered at the Frozen Lake Shrine.

The news of Evan's awakening spread like wildfire throughout the Sun Moon Empire, thanks to the officials of the Frost Imperial Court who were tasked with spreading the word. However, the attention he received was far from positive.

Evan became the target of ridicule and mockery, and his name became synonymous with failure. Memes and jokes about him flooded social media platforms and other sites, tarnishing his reputation and making him a laughingstock.

As Evan stepped out of the shrine, he found himself in the spotlight, but not in the way he had hoped for. The gazes of the onlookers were filled with either pity or disdain, and their contemptuous and sympathetic expressions were a clear indication of what they thought of him. In their eyes, he was not a worthy Crown Prince, and the weight of their disapproval was suffocating.

Magnus, Evan's father, stepped forward, shielding him from the mocking stares of Mathew, Jack, and the others. He spoke softly to Evan, "Remember, my child, a strong soul plate does not determine your worth. It's how you use it and your heart that truly matters."

Evan nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude for his father's reassuring words.

Magnus and Evan left the area, their heads held high.

Mathew, who was standing on the stairs of the shrine, couldn't resist the urge to sneer at Evan's expense. "He'll learn soon enough that he's nothing special," he said with disdain etched on his face. Thankfully, his bullshit wasn't heard by Magnus. Otherwise, he would have been slapped into oblivion.

Jack, who stood next to Mathew, chimed in, "There's no way he's going to survive in a clan like this with a pathetic soul plate like that."

ραпdα nᴏνa| сom Mathew nodded in agreement.

In a clan as harsh and unforgiving as theirs, Evan's weak and feeble soul plate would prove to be his downfall sooner than anyone could have imagined, or so he thought!

...

Meanwhile, in the resplendent garden of the Firestorm Imperial Clan, two captivating women reveled in a tranquil moment of bliss, relishing the taste of their tea.

One was the remarkable Lady Eleanor, the youngest concubine of the reigning patriarch, who surpassed even the Grand Patriarch of the Frost Imperial Clan in age and wisdom. The other was her beloved daughter, Princess Isabella, a picture of beauty and grace.

Lady Eleanor was a true gem of refined beauty, her auburn hair expertly arranged with delicate jewelry that shimmered in the sunlight. Her slender figure was further enhanced by her finely embroidered attire, attesting to her lofty status within the clan.