My king, my king, how was I supposed to know that
Everyone will falter when you die
And as we speak the army of our enemies
Is approaching our gates, we cannot fly
Behold, my son
There’s a way to save you all
Don’t you despair, don’t be petrified
There is an armor
Ancient magic made it strong
And you shall wear it when you face the fight
This harness will guide us through dangerous night
It humbles the foe with its grace
The thornmail will help us prevail and survive
Our deadliest fate we embrace
Well done, my son, it’s the way to save you all
But don’t you think the realm’s been purified
Creatures of darkness are still longing for your fall
Keep them in thrall, it’s time to smite and ignite
My king, my king, how was I supposed to know that
Everyone will falter when you die
Son, smite them all