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From the Scythian steppes to the Black Sea shores

Arrows mark a land marred by war

Swords clash against blood-steeped spears

Wielded by those that all men fear

Their chariots thunder across the hills

As the Roman war god exacts his will

Sweat chills the skin of those who hear the roar

The battle cry of the daughters of Mars

The shield line forms

The arrows swarm

The spearheads wait

To seal the fate

Born to carry a weapon in hand

Surviving where chaos blooms in the land

Cold-blooded, hot-blooded, iron-blooded soldiers

The brutality of Ares is theirs to shoulder

Battle will greet a glorious end

For the tribe whose knees will never bend

The Amazon warriors display their scars

For pride never dies in the daughters of Mars

Slay those around

Penthesilea’s grounds

Feared near and far

The Daughters of Mars