A Dream Of Sleeping Warriors

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...