In The Dirt.

(⚡ THE BLADE OF DEATH — RITUAL ANTHEM SCROLL)

The Soil Trembles

Death and doom in the sound,

you bury the dead in the ground.

With us, the dead can’t be found,

the heart beats fast in your ears — it pounds.

Ash in the wind, and the sky turns red,

shadows crawl out where the brave once bled.

Every step echoes like a warning bell,

every breath tastes like the edge of hell.

The Price of Fortune

With luck comes great fortune,

but money, house, and fame

won’t save your name

when the game forgets your face.

The crowd moves on, the lights go black,

and no one’s there when the blade looks back.

The Cold Edge

And if you're lucky enough

not to feel the cold blade of death,

then you're luckier than the rest

who suffered the blade of death…

the blade of death…

blade of death…

death…

The Ones Who Fell

Whispers rise from the dirt below,

telling secrets only the lost ones know.

Every victory carved in stone

still fades when you stand alone.

You can buy the world, you can buy the throne,

but you can’t buy time when the reaper’s shown.

Fame burns fast like a funeral pyre,

and the smoke climbs high like a liar.

The Reckoning

Run if you want, but the night runs too.

Hide if you want, but it hunts for you.

Every soul pays the toll in the end,

every king meets the blade as a friend.

Drums like thunder, hearts like war,

shadows gather at your door.

The Ritual Echo

Blade of death…

blade of death…

cold steel breath…

blade of death…

Turn the wheel…

seal the fate…

no one outruns

the closing gate…

The Final Footstep

Death and doom in the sound,

you bury the dead in the ground.

But the echo remains,

and the echo is loud —

the blade of death…

death…

death…