On the day when the wind of the Big Eagle’s wings will speed tangibly over the head of Sion, yes there far across the planes of the Southern Land, at the foot of Table Mountain. Yes, there where the holy graft would begin to grow so lecherous, with stored courage of generations.

An angelic song resounds, yes in the last glow of the daybreak. The words go like this: Oh pure blood, holy blood, the Holy Ghost shines over you, now in a last Set-apart Glow and therefore only the last remnant is preserved for the new period.

The heavenly hosts sing: Oh holy blood, oh pure blood, over you the Big Maned Lion now roars so protectively, so furiously and therefore all impure hybrid-blood must pay, to their downfall, in obliteration.

In the faraway Southern Land, on the day when the Orange River will flood her own banks far and wide, yes on that terrible day her muddy water looks like red blood in the last glow of the sun. On that day the last Set-Apart ones will cross a bridge over this river on foot and look, the earth will come to the rescue of the first half of them.

Behold, the one half speeds Northwest, while the chaos rages behind them and the rest flee totally West while the enemy follows them in an attempt to destroy them. So, listen carefully to the song of angels, about martyrs, yes a song that feeds eternity, about heroes with courageous deeds.

So know that there comes a time when the pure blood will greet all their earthly matter in victory. So, drink abundantly from the fountain of faith and courage now oh Sion and Jerusalem. Pick up your rod and put on your holy khaki hat because the sins of the world are now as black as soot. While you know that your blood, oh remnant, is and will eternally stay the Holy, Set Apart Chronicle’s pure blood.