The sound of the Oracle came through in their ears, making them leave what they were talking about previously.
A brown paper, similar to the one that the world record was displayed on, appeared right in front of Harley's vision, and the text began to form.
[A nameless jester received a vision of his village's ruin and sailed with the very pirates who came to destroy it. Disguised in their skins, he danced for their entertainment upon the knife's edge, unbroken by chains, blades, and humiliation. Rejecting the fate cast upon him, he chased true freedom with cunning words and colder blood, poisoning decks and kingdoms alike, betraying allies and enemies in turn until the island of bones trembled beneath his mortal steps. There, amid thousands of undead and the wrath of a celestial godkin, his Cold Blood drank deep of slaughter and granted him the strength to slay what gods themselves would fear.]
