he hatred of our fathers runs through our veins
and their blood quenches the sand's thirst.

We'll pay for mother desert with malignant vengeance
if we don't fall dead first.

The holy war calls for holy warriors, crusaders of a dark spirit. We are the legion of the dark cross, faithful warriors of Ignis. We are the servants of the holy mission, brought up by the desert, watered with blood, toughen by combat. Our blood longs for vengeance and our souls are blind in it: To throw Syrtis into destruction and suffering, to cast eternal night upon their nations, to darken the sun, to poison the soil and soak the Lake of Ancients with syrtisian blood is the mission which every child of the Ignis desert is worth of.