Ohh, what a disaster! Olivier, the Vasaria Order's greatest priest, gone! Gone on a pilgrimage to, of all places, G! He knew the legends, the stories, the myths. He knew the history of our world, of the great Salsaroa and the traitorism of G himself.
Oh, what was I to do? This was a disaster. I could not allow it. I simply could not allow it!
To go to G… what could have possibly struck Olivier as so important that he had to do such a thing?