"At the court of king Chaos only blood
   can write its own tragedy..."
  
   Mighty warriors from the silver hills
   march, all led by golden winds
   Elves and trolls from holy mystic woods
   run through the last snow
  
   He's now coming from the middle lands
   handling proud his magic sword
   Glory, pride and honor ride with him
   Burns the flame of north
  
   They will all meet in the Kazar ruins
   not so far from Ancelot
   In the temple of the fallen one
   their hope will be born...
  
   Born from the ashes of ancient glory... Born!
  
   They all hail the mighty chosen one
   reaching the skies with their cry
   They are ready to reach Ancelot
   Arwald's calling loud...
  
   "Glory ride with us! Lux Triumphans!
   Magic and steelgods lead us to a new dawn..."