缓抬步，立于最前，目光扫过满目疮痍的舰队、浴血疲惫的将士，扫过两岸黑压压蛰伏的魔军，扫过远方海天交界处滔天翻涌的墨色魔雾。
““Thisday’sbattleisnotwroughtbymiracle,norordainedbyfate.””
他苍老的声音传遍整支舰队，落进每一名将士耳中，沉缓却有力，震慑全场。
““Thelighthaswaned,andheavennolongersheltersmortalkind.Theoldorderhascrumbled,andanewageofstrifehascome.Darknessisdividedbetweentwothrones,andhiddentidesstirineverycorneroftheworld.BehindusliesthelastpurerefugeofRobson—thefinalsparkoflight,thesolehopeofascatteredpeople.””
““Westandwithoutdivinegrace,withoutsacredrelics,withoutcomingaid.””
““Yettrueguardianshaveneverreliedonheavenlypowerordestinedfavor.Theystandbyunyieldingresolve,bythedutyofbearingaworld’ssufferinguponmortalflesh,andbythewilltoperishratherthanletallfolkfallagainintoshadow.””
““UponthesewatersofBesadamo,wemortalsshallmakeourstand.Ourbrokenbodiesshallbeourramparts,ourbloodourblades.Weholdthissealineuntilourlas
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