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.