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We are mercenaries. We are brothers in arms.
We are the hidden power. We are sons of darkness.

Let us raise our blades for victory, power and glory.
I feel the power filling my being
as I roam these lands with a sword in my fist
to fulfill the missions entrusted to us.
Carrying glory and riches above the lives we take away

My first killing was difficult,
but since then, my eyes have gotten used to seeing men fall,
as we adapt when the light gives way to the night.
Impressive how a man is able to love the worst
when death carries the scent of his glory.

Burning, stealing, killing, destroying,
I feel powerful, but something is still missing.
How will the story of my name be told?
What will make young people dreamers and elders nostalgic?

Today my fight is not for a cause,
except for my journey on the path to my destiny.
Maybe that's why these deaths sometimes leave a bitter taste.
In the evening by the fire, I see them dancing in the flames,
screaming for justice!
I took their wealth and their lives,
in return, they try to take the joy out of my victories.

Sung by the bards, glorious are the destinies
and sweet are the spoils.

Isn't my heart still not hard enough?
Or have I compromised too much?
There's no place for weakness, my quest is all that matters!
But this feeling intrigues and draws me.
Something concealed, that seems precious.

A call for life

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