Chapter 1 An Imperial Jester: The Frost Clan's Mentally Unstable Heir
In the bustling capital of the Sun Moon Empire, where the sun blazed high in the sky and the moon glowed brightly at night, there was a famous tavern that lay in the northern district. It was a lively hub where people from all walks of life came to indulge in ale and exchange news and gossip.
On this particular day, the patrons were deep in conversation, their voices carrying over the clinking of glasses and the sound of laughter.
They were discussing the grandson of the Empire's Grand General.
"Have you heard about that Evan Frost boy?" one patron said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Oh, you mean the idiot son of the retired Field Marshal?" Snarky Steve replied, sneering as he took a swig from his ale. He was known for speaking ill behind everyone's back in these alleys. But because he had the strength to back up his foul mouth, nothing had been done about him.
"Hah! That's the one," Simon laughed loudly, his voice thundering in the pub.
After glancing at who was talking, the people looked away. Simon was the henchman of a famous thug. They couldn't afford to offend him. Even telling him to lower his voice might cost them an arm or a leg.
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"Who hasn't heard of him in the capital? He is born to the most famous Soul Master of this time, but he is more useless than a pig. You can eat a pig after raising it, but nothing can be done about that boy. He can't focus on anything. He's always out of his mind," Snarky Steve continued, rolling his eyes.
"He is a useless waste of space," Simon scoffed.
But another patron chimed in, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I heard he has nightmares every night."
"Ha! Figures. He is probably too stupid to even sleep properly," Snarky Steve said, snickering. It was clear that he held a deep disdain for Evan Frost.
"Sounds like that Evan Frost is more of a liability than an asset to his clan. I mean, who would give up on themselves just because of reoccurring nightmares? Maybe if he wasn't such a spineless coward, he could actually do something useful for once." Simon said.
Snarky Steve chuckled and took another swig of his ale. "Useful? That would be a first. The only thing that boy is good for is being a laughingstock for the rest of us."
ραпdα nᴏνa| сom The third patron nodded in agreement. "It's a shame, really, having such a famous father and grandfather and being such a pathetic excuse of a prince. But hey, at least he's good for something, right? We can always use him as a good joke to pass the time."
Simon snorted in derision. "Ha! You said it. Evan Frost, the joke of the Frost Clan. He's nothing more than a waste of space and air. Might as well just put him out of his misery and save everyone the trouble."
Snarky Steve laughed cruelly. "I couldn't agree more. Evan Frost the useless, pitiful excuse for a prince. He'll never be anything more than a pathetic laughingstock."
"According to reports, he is believed to possess potential; however, he struggles to perform well in his studies and concentrate on training due to being haunted by nightmares throughout the night."
"It's a fabricated story intended to protect his reputation!"
"The reality will be exposed during the upcoming awakening ceremony, which is set to take place in three days. The detector will ascertain whether he truly deserves to be regarded as his father's son or if he is merely a shameful disappointment."
Meanwhile, at the Frost family estate, Evan lay in bed with his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He had just woken up from another nightmare, and his body trembled with exhaustion. The images from his dreams were still vivid in his mind, constantly repeating and haunting him like a ghost. He remembered seeing a furry humanoid creature tearing apart humans and squashing scientists with a casual motion of its hand. The thought of how powerful the creature had to be to squash humans like bugs lingered in his mind.
However, unlike all the previous times, Evan did not feel afraid. He accepted the visions he had seen tonight with an open mind and smiled happily as though he had awakened from a sweet dream instead of a nightmare.
"I can't believe it," Evan muttered, putting together the pieces of the puzzle. "The monster was the hero all along, the humans were the real villains, and the captives were the victim of humanity's greed! The visions I have been having for the past four years weren't foretelling my doom! I have been paranoid for no reason!"
He laughed joyfully, exuding a sense of freedom that one might expect from a person who had just been liberated from slavery.
At the tender age of 12, his life was tragically altered when his mother passed away in an accident. Every night since then, he had been plagued by terrifying visions that disrupted his ability to concentrate on his studies and training. He was left in a permanent state of paranoia.
As a result of his condition, his grades suffered, and he became the target of ridicule within and outside his clan.
Some even questioned whether he, as a mentally unstable individual, was fit to be the Crown Prince of Frost.
Nonetheless, his father protected him, and he maintained his position.
And finally, after four long years of enduring the same nightmare, he has been cured of his illness!