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...