In the times when Hamon Father the Spirit of the World was already dead Moonlit Knight lay bound under the Mountain of Death
In the grave of the Earth the memory of the past is still lasting Abiding in the helmets and swords of the great warriors, Ashy knights who, not finding solace in a fight, had to rest by their master's side committing ritual suicide
But their sleep was light to be ready on time for the wartime blaze And arising from the ashes, to join the flaming army
Being united in the Flaming Dragon to draw their swords again By the side of the great King of Serpents, they are supreme defenders of the Earth From the Nida of Fire they are men of mist and smoke roused from sleep To strike the enemy from the depths of flaming water
From sacred rivers of fire, like a fiery hurricane, to strike the invaders The troop of spectres is sleeping, waiting to be alive again Ages pass but ghostly hands are still ready to grasp their weapon And to restore the memory of the past of the ancient sons of the Earth
Among them there is the Great King of Serpents, the Son of Time, the Lord of Mist, Three immortal old men have kept their prophecy Among the nine rings of time
He fell asleep but he will return, equally mighty, he will lead the army of spectres And he will destroy the hungry hordes from the Satan's Mountains He will take the young warrior's soul
Who was born in the hour of death of Hamon Father And the Spirit of the World The Son of the Three...
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