The Voice of the Prince
Behind the stone platform, waves of cheers, conversations, and restless anticipation rolled through Fantom City like distant thunder. Thousands of voices merged into a single deafening roar that seemed to shake the very air.
Eon stood in silence.
His broad fingers tightened around the worn handle of his giant battle axe until his knuckles turned pale. A moment later, he forced himself to loosen his grip.
He had faced charging beasts, survived battles that should have killed him, and stared death in the eyes more times than he could count.
Yet somehow...
Standing before thousands of people felt far more intimidating.
He drew in a slow, steady breath, trying to calm the storm inside his chest.
"I... I don't know if I can do this."
Victor stepped up beside him without a hint of hesitation. His golden eyes remained calm, steady, and reassuring.
"You can."
Eon turned to look at him, searching his face.
"What if they don't believe me?"
