Dragons Kings and Frogs - Valley of The Lost Album Outro -Masaki Karsu II: Fate of the Storm Sword
The desert air of the Valley of the Lost grew unnaturally cold as night fell, the stars above shining with an eerie, sharp brilliance against the jagged silhouettes of the surrounding mountains.
Leif of Delora adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the rocky terrain. Somewhere in these treacherous wastes lay the stolen Belt of Deltora, and with it, the fate of his kingdom. But they were not alone in their search. The shadows themselves seemed to stretch and twist, infected by a dark, oppressive magic.
"The day sky will darken and black lightning will strike," Spyro muttered, his purple scales reflecting the faint starlight as he padded alongside Leif. "It is a sign. It is coming... the Bloody August." The young dragon shook his horns, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling creeping over him. "Gnasty Gnorc added that there's something strange going on here, and for once, I think that big ugly brute might actually be right."
"Let it come," Orphen said flatly. The sorcerer stood a few paces ahead, his dark coat rustling in the dry wind. He looked entirely unfazed by the ominous atmosphere, though his sharp eyes were constantly moving. "Whether it's a giant dragon, a shadow beast, or whatever the hell 'Bloody August' is supposed to be, it can be killed just like anything else."
"Spoken like a true mercenary," a voice called out from the rocks above.
Masaki Karsu stepped down into the moonlight, his blonde hair caught in the breeze. He looked down at the group with a casual, almost mocking expression. "Which side do you intend to take in this little brawl? You haven't made your position clear either."
Orphen paused, glancing up at Masaki with a dangerous smirk. "I'll take whatever side I like best. And right now, the side that gets me out of this desert alive is looking pretty good."
"Then you'd best stay focused," another voice interjected. Kyogi Kagimi emerged from the shadows near the base of the mountain, his silver hair gleaming under the starry sky. His expression was serious, his violet eyes fixed on Orphen. "Have you discovered the sword of Baltanders yet? If we are to face a manifestation like the Bloody August, ordinary steel and basic incantations won't be enough."
Before Orphen could answer, the ground beneath them began to vibrate. From the high ridges of the valley, a sound like tearing fabric echoed through the night. The stars seemed to blur as a massive, dark anomaly began to coalesce in the upper atmosphere, bleeding blackness into the night sky.
Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves shattered the silence. Down the canyon path, ethereal horses—manifestations of the valley's ancient, trapped spirits—flashed in the sudden, strange light. They charged like thunder, their eyes burning with a ghostly fire as they stampes toward the travelers.
"Look out!" Leif shouted, drawing his blade as the phantom steeds bore down on them.
Spyro took a deep breath, unleashing a torrent of bright, hot flame to create a barrier of fire, forcing the spirit horses to scatter into the rocks.
As the dust settled, the sky above them turned completely pitch-black, erasing the stars. A violent crack echoed through the valley as a bolt of black lightning struck the highest peak, shattering the stone. From the smoke and ruins of the mountain, a colossal, terrifying silhouette began to rise—the Bloody August had awakened, and the true battle for the Belt of Deltora had begun.
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