It's like it's been raining for centuries- the Gods are angry, only the cold wind knows a feeling like anger. Where swords are forged warriors are born, Where thunder rumbles. Where thunder rolls, lightning is born. A path into the forest, A bloody warrior lying bloody the rain washes over him, A horse tramples on the grass- Rise up, we must go- The battle is still ahead! Good Prince Satan, He wants blood in his own blood. With all his might, the iron man climbed up on his horse, drew his razor-sharp sword, and set out on his journey to chop the devil's head off his shoulders.