Onward the Stallion gallops, skillfully weaving in and out of the traffic around us. We are making good time and have left the hospital far behind us, but our pursuers are hot on our heels. Enma in particular charges down the road at full tilt on his motorbike, gradually eating up the lead the Stallion had originally opened up. My body is thrown up and down on the saddle as the Stallion squeezes out another burst of speed in its effort to escape.
But Enma's bike is both faster and more agile than the Stallion. Its engine roars triumphantly and Enma easily matches the Stallion's increased pace. The rest of the Prince's men doggedly trail behind in their cars, waiting for their chance to jump in and make their presence felt. The Stallion slams aside a car that is blocking our path and pushes through the congested traffic, but this maneuver costs us more time, allowing Enma to draw ever closer.
I feel a great surge of power coming from Enma as the Fire of Perdition erupts all over his right arm. The Prince then makes a violent flinging motion at the Stallion, sending a globule of flame arcing in our direction. The Stallion cuts sharply to the side and ducks behind a van, barely managing to avoid the incoming wave of death. The fireball instead crashes into a nearby car, sending it flying into the air by virtue of a massive explosion.
Incoherent static bursts into my ear but before I can make sense of it, one of the saddle bags the Stallion is carrying pops open, revealing a large revolver and several loose bullets. I understand. The Stallion had taught me how to shoot before, and once again, its my time to shine. I load the revolver and turn back, leveling the sights on Enma's fast approaching form.
The gun thunders defiantly as Enma is raises his blazing right arm again, vomiting out its oversize slugs. Enma's eyes open wide in alarm and he jerks hard at his bike's handles, causing the machine to swerve abruptly away from the incoming bullets. As I continue to open fire on Enma, he performs a haphazard zigzag across the road, ducking and weaving through my salvo. All too quickly, the gun runs dry and I am forced to reload it, giving Enma his breathing space.
A stray thought enters my mind as I fumble with the revolver's cylinder. Could I force Enma to crash his bike? Its most likely a vain hope, Enma's far too skillful at riding for that to happen. As my mind entertains these pointless thoughts, another surge of pressure comes from Enma as he hurls one of his fireballs at the Stallion.
This time the Stallion dashes aside a compact car and barrels down the road's hard shoulder, narrowly avoiding the fireball by a hair. The heat of the flames pricks my skin. That was too close. As the Stallion keeps galloping without missing a beat, I note wryly the words painted on the hard shoulder itself. Emergency Only. This situation certainly applies.
I turn around and begin firing away at Enma, hoping to at least slow down his progress, but get the same desultory results. Enma easily dodges my gunfire, but at least when he is dodging, he's too preoccupied to actually attack the Stallion. As we battle, the road enters a bend and begins to slope upwards. The incline is gradual at first, but quickly becomes incredibly steep. I hear the Stallion grunt with effort as it makes the climb and our speed begins to slow.
The road is taking us to a flyover. That's not the problem. The problem is that the Stallion can't maintain its speed while scaling the incline. We are going slower and slower, the furious gallop having been reduced to a leisurely canter. Enma revs his bike's engine and begins to make the climb as well. The difference in our respective speeds becomes even more apparent with Enma now rapidly catching up to the struggling Stallion.
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The Stallion cannot help me escape, that much is clear. Enma will catch up with me sooner or later. Should I hold my ground and fight then?
No. I shudder as I recall the memory of my first battle against Enma. I may have struck a blow against him just now, but he's still capable of putting up a huge struggle. And if I push him too far and the Princess chooses to intervene, our strength will be equal. That was the painful lesson I had learned. I barely managed a painful draw with him the last time we fought. I do not fancy my chances with all the backup Enma has waiting in the wings.
The Stallion finally manages to crest the incline and it begins speeding up again, racing down the broad flyover. My mind racing, I look around for any opportunities to turn the tables on Enma. My breath catches for the barest moment. There's a chance here, not to prevail, but at least to escape. The flyover cuts across the borders of two separate Districts and running perpendicularly below it is the City's mag rail track. I hear the electric whine of the mag rail shuttle and sure enough, it blurs into my field of view, riding the track beneath me. This is my chance. Its a small window of opportunity, but I have to grasp it.
A deep breath. The crackling noise of static in my ear intensifies, but I pay it no heed. I have to focus on what is in front of me. As Enma's bike crests the incline as well, I throw caution to the wind and take a flying leap off the Stallion, sailing over the flyover's safety barrier and plunge downwards, straight towards the roof of the mag rail shuttle. My stomach drops into a metaphorical pit and I feel my bladder loosen. Remember the teachings of the Stallion. You can do this.
I can do this.
I have no choice but to do this.
My feet hit the roof of the mag rail shuttle hard and I drop into a roll to break the fall. I hope I didn't wet myself there.
As I get back to my feet and breathe a sigh of relief, I hear an enraged shout coming from somewhere above me.
"That's hardly enough!" Enma's voice drifts towards me.
A loud crash is heard and the Prince's bike smashes through the safety barrier, making the plunge towards the mag rail shuttle as well. But Enma is not going to make it. The shuttle is moving too fast. Enma instead grasps the handles of the bike and performs a gymnast's flip before releasing his grip, culminating at him catapulting the bike towards me like a projectile. As the Prince is separated from the bike, his feet shuffle rapidly and he flash steps in midair, landing securely on the tail end of the shuttle.
Recovering from my shock at the outlandish display in front of me, I reach out with both arms as the bike crashes towards my head. The impact of the bike meeting my hands sends me skidding backwards, but I keep my balance and hold the bike tightly, my fingers sinking into the metal frame. I hear an angry snarl coming from Enma as he charges at me, his ruined face glowering with determination.
I kick off the shuttle's roof towards my opponent and rear the bike in my arms back. Before both of us collide, I bring my arms about in a mighty swing, sending the bike barging towards Enma's face like a club. The Prince growls and pivots on his foot, lashing out with a kick. His leg rips through the bike as if it was made out of paper, the tip of the Prince's shoe barely missing my chin.
Dropping the ruined bike, I begin backing up to get some space between us, but Enma's right arm shoots out and catches me by the lapel of my clothes. Green fire rushes down his arm and my coat quickly catches fire.
"Burn! Bur-" Enma shrieks before my fist catches him squarely in the mouth. As he staggers backwards, I tear off the coat the Stallion had prepared for me and toss the burning mass off the side of the shuttle. The Prince rubs his fat lips gingerly and regards me once more.
"You cannot escape. Face justice. Stop running." he says.
I enter my fighting stance as the wind whistles past us, "What will you tell my sister then?"
"That you are beyond redemption." Enma spits, "You sold your soul for power. You're no longer Siobahn's brother."
"We live in the True Emperor's world." I reply, "The Princess's rebellion will end in the way it has always ended. Defeat. I won't let you drag my family down with your nonsense."
"Big talk for a coward who keeps running!" Enma shouts.
I frown and gather my strength before shooting back, "Enough words."
"Its time for deeds, Prince."