Unearthing the essence of old rites, In this place where some guild was formed. United at the circle of the altar, Thus, will reborn – the rulers of the night. As the tribes – are crossing in the mist, The Legions of the two-legged wolf – arise. Wild dogs are screaming, the canids are alive. Now by this locus we are standing, still, strong! Hail to the Arch Fangs Take up the banners, jagged in the sky Thy name will be waking in the echoes, And by the wind will spread. Volcae! - Empowering our lifeblood, You, august Volcae! - Anchor the vessels of our conviction. Volcae! - No have the choice to hold back the impending – clash. Hail to the Arch Fangs Take up the banners, jagged in the sky Thy name will be waking in the echoes, And by the wind will spread.