Trevor let out a grim sigh, his lips forming a hard line. He had just arrived in Gresit, only to ironically stumble upon a group of priests threatening to kill an elderly Speaker.

Within moments, he had dispatched the troublesome priests, only to be confronted with another problem: the priests would relentlessly pursue the Speakers, regardless of their innocence. Trevor wanted the Speakers out of Gresit by nightfall, but they refused to leave, as one of their own was still missing.

His boots echoed against the stone floors as he approached, finding the unconscious Speaker slumped against a pillar. Trevor wore a tunic emblazoned with the Belmont emblem, stitched in gold thread.

At his hip hung a whip, crafted specifically to kill demons and other creatures. He knelt down, flicking his index finger against the Speaker’s forehead, checking to see if they were even alive, his expression set on one of mild annoyance.