Enshrouded in his black robes, with an ever-present mist of darkness before his hood, Skarl rode atop a chariot drawn by four skeletal horses, racing with such speed that it appeared nearly translucent. His ethereal hands wielded twin whips made of dark energy, the crack of which was a terrifying sound. Skulls hung on the sides of the chariot, clinking crisply against each other in the rapid advance.
Behind Skarl was the clatter of running skeletons and the shuffling of zombies, with countless wraiths swirling in the air, emerging from the ground.
Azazel spotted Skarl from afar and immediately turned to flee. He knew where the portal was; reaching it meant safety. He could step through and return to the Prime Material Plane. As for Skarl, Azazel surmised he would not pursue. Judging by the phantom hands under Skarl's cloak, Azazel deduced it was not his true form but merely a projection. Rumors abounded that the true body of the Dustmen's leader was not even in Sigil but on another plane entirely—this apparition in the black cloak was just an extension of Skarl's will. Thus, the shrouded figure could only chase Azazel within Sigil, as the projection could not leave this plane or the city itself.
Most found the rumors absurd, as nearly no mage could project their presence into Sigil. But Azazel believed in the ludicrous, praying fervently as he ran that the rumors were true. He hoped that no one knew how Skarl could project into Sigil, much like no one knew how he had managed to sign the "Dead Truce."
As a devil, Azazel's body was much stronger than before. He sprinted through the ruins and rubble of the Lower Ward, thinking that he might give Bolt a run for his money now. Of course, Bolt had better tracks and shoes, but he didn't have a chariot of bone horses chasing him. So, who could say which of them was faster? Azazel could only sprint with all his might towards his destination, but soon he felt his legs begin to wobble.
The aftermath of last night's frenzy was taking its toll.
Moreover, Azazel had no magic at his disposal. He had been too busy the previous night and had not adhered to a mage's code of conduct by getting a proper rest. And this morning, caught up in cheering and running—so much so that he forgot to even dress—how could he possibly remember to prepare spells?
The distraction of a beautiful woman was indeed calamitous, as the ancients had rightfully proclaimed. It seemed now he could only rely on the wisdom of his ancestors from the Land of the Divine.
"Gideon! Hey, Gideon!" Azazel had no choice but to multitask, sprinting while calling out to his strongest support in his mind.
But there was no response.
Just then, Skarl caught up, even as Azazel's speed neared Bolt's. But one needed to consider:
One Bolt, two legs;
Four horses, sixteen legs.
No matter how he calculated, Azazel could not escape Skarl's pursuit. Fortunately, the labyrinthine Lower Ward with its numerous ruins provided some opportunity for struggle.
"Who would have thought! Azazel, how did you end up like this!" Skarl stood atop the chariot, alongside the sprinting Azazel, not hiding his shock at Azazel's appearance.
"Some things happened, too complex to explain!" Azazel panted heavily as he ran and had no time for a chat: "I've got to go. See you!" With that, he leapt onto the rooftop of an abandoned building and kept running!
Below, Skarl's whip cracked again, and the bone horses sharply turned, the chariot sliding sideways into a narrow alley, continuing the chase without slowing.
No way. Could that carriage actually drift?
"Talk to me, Gideon! It's urgent! Where are you? It's not like I'm calling for a signal!"
Gideon ignored him, but Skarl once again caught up with Azazel.
Skarl: "Azazel, I never imagined you'd flee. Can't a smart man like you see through it all? Why run? Even if you've turned into a devil and momentarily escaped death, what's the point? Death will ultimately find you. Didn't you say yourself death is like a shadow, always following you? Here's a proposal: stop running, and I'll give you a peaceful death without pain, like falling asleep. After, I'll ensure a grand funeral for you. Imagine resting comfortably in a coffin full of flowers. Surely that's better than running yourself ragged now. What do you say?"
"How about you keep the coffin and flowers for when I don't want to live anymore? I'll come back for them then!" Azazel retorted and leapt off the other side of the wall, continuing his run down another alley perpendicular to Skarl's path.
That should shake him off. That devil will have to take quite a detour to get here.
Azazel slowed his pace, gasping for air: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
It felt like fire was burning in his lungs.
His legs turned to cooked noodles.
This chase couldn't go on; it was dangerous. Luckily, he was clever enough to shake off that Dustmen lunatic. It was time to leave Sigil with haste.
Azazel had not relished his victory for long when noises of impact and collapsing walls came from behind. Twisting his head to look back, he nearly popped his eyes out of their sockets.
The chariot, pulled by four bone horses, burst through the dust of the demolished wall!
Was that a chariot or a tank? It didn't take detours; it just plowed through walls.
Left with no other choice, Azazel pushed his pace once more and ran wildly.
"GideonGideonGideonGideon!!!!" Azazel could only scream inside his mind, "If you're there, just give me a sign! Jiang, are you there? Your descendant is about to be killed and laid to rest in a tiny coffin!"
"Don't talk to me, I won't talk to you," Gideon replied with a tone far from friendly.
"What's going on?" Azazel was perplexed but at least got a response.
"'I'm not a virgin anymore, I'm not a virgin anymore,'" Gideon mimicked Azazel's excited cry from the morning. "That was bad enough, but then you had to run naked! That's just too much! Don't say you know me or that you're my descendant! It'd ruin my millennia of wisdom. It's utterly embarrassing."
"Look, I got carried away," Azazel pleaded, "Help me, Gideon, it's urgent. If you don't, I'm dead for sure."
"Then die. It's better than living in shame. Don't expect me to help; last time was an exception, and I'll never use your body again," Gideon said, then seemed to relent slightly, "Even if that one-in-a-billion chance happened where I could fight in your stead, I wouldn't do it. Fight in that body of yours? Heaven forbid, I still want to keep my pride!"
"Alright, alright, forget about helping. Just give me some advice!"
"Advice? Fine, here's some: stop talking to me and focus on running!"
Azazel felt bitterness in his mouth and frustration in his heart, with no outlet but to keep sprinting.
Focus on running.
"I'm not a virgin anymore, I'm not a virgin anymore." Gideon, having retreated into the depths of the mind, echoed back Azazel's phrase in mockery. "Such shame! What kind of person does this!"
Azazel ignored him and focused on running.
Gideon, too, gave up talking and retreated back into the depths.
The sound of the whip followed; in the brief exchange with Gideon, Skarl's chariot had caught up again. Skarl's voice, dry and emotionless as an ancient cellar, boomed, "I heard you ran naked this morning?"
Azazel nearly toppled over. Fortunately, his thick skin saved him, and he recovered his balance.
Ignore it!
Focus on running,
Focus on running,
Focus on running.
"Why did you do it? Why indulge in such disgrace? You might as well be dead. It's not a humiliation but a kind gesture. Once dead, you won't feel embarrassed about running naked, for zombies and mummies seldom wear clothes." Skarl's words smashed Azazel's resolve to "focus on running" to bits.
A sudden stop, turn, leap, change of direction, and off he ran again. Azazel jumped onto another rooftop, all the while shouting, "I ran naked because I was excited! And I was excited because I'm not a virgin anymore!"
It wasn't long before Skarl appeared beside Azazel. This time, Skarl was silent, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he finally spoke, "I see, no wonder you don't want to die. You're no longer a virgin! But I've been thinking for a long time and still can't grasp your actions. What does running naked have to do with not being a virgin? Is there a deeper meaning to your nudity?"
Azazel felt on the verge of madness. Why did everyone dwell on one mistake? Who didn't make mistakes in life? Couldn't they just let it go? Why was everyone so fixated on bringing it up over and over again?