The hunter's moon will rise tonight
and show the path we all must take
to kill the beast who prey on men
and leave their kins in pain of grief
The vamp who paints our land with blood
will feel the rage of vengeful blades.

For sure he'll be impaled by blades
or we will not return tonight.
We'll banish he, who feeds on blood,
avenging souls he chose to take
to plant despair in hearts which grieve
the loss of kins that shames the men.

So rise, dear friends and be the men
who dare to face the beast with blades,
no longer drowning in your grief.
We'll end his reign by force tonight!
No time to doubt, his life, we'll take
and then we'll crush those of his blood.

The hunter's moon will witness blood
that marks his death by might of men.
We'll reap his heart that we will take
to burn its filth or slice by blades.
By God! We won't return tonight
before we kill the cause of grief!

To free our land from plague of grief,
we'll fight and stain our hands with blood.
We'll risk our lives for all tonight
to stand with pride of honored men.
So pray to God that all our blades
won't fail to find the chance to take.

We all must plan the route to take
or this will end with tears of grief.
With sharpened will we'll raise our blades.
We're brothers now, though not by blood.
Be brave, be strong, be you the men,
the heroes all will hail tonight.

Prepare the blades you choose to take
to strike tonight and end our grief.
The blood we'll shed won't be of men.