اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Through the withered vines of a rotting forest
the ruins of the old world lay untouched for centuries
still trapped within time
Holding a millennia of decadence and knowledge
Holding the key to unlock the future
Tattered scrolls written in peasants blood
a time where nobility ruled with an iron fist
Glory for the strong
Death for the weak
Through the walls of stone
in a chamber of lost hope
not touched by the light
lies the path to our fate
Our destiny
Our calling
To the blacker future we create
