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As the battle raged on around them, Alistair merely let out a faint smile. Mother Ekaterine was as lively as ever, having blasted two with her her shotgun, before removing a third on the left side. Pastor Yu had dealt with the one on the roof, and let the blessed incense within his censer do its work. Meanwhile Pastor Jin had managed to fell three more-- two with holy water, and one with bullets.

Surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly so-- Mother Ekaterine [i]would[/i] be the one to carry a sidearm), the nun from the Eastern Orthodoxy was the one who had broken free from her battle-frenzy to pass him a spare gun. She told him of how many rounds was in the pistol, and how it was precious to her.

If she was trusing him with this, then how could he do anything but oblige her?

[color=239C89]"Thank you. I will put it to good use."[/color] The priest said with a gentle, but resolute smile.

Alistair gave the pistol a once-over. It was a Makarov Pistol-- semi-automatic, blowback operation, with eight rounds. There was a story to this pistol, and it was likely that the weapon may have been older than he was. Judging by the weight, it was fully-loaded, though a round still needed to be chambered. The priest operated the slide to chamber the first round, and flicked the safety off.

He took a deep breath, and then swung the door open. Taking hold of the car's interior roof handle in his right hand, Alistair went from a sitting position to a standing one, his feet on the car floor while he leaned out of the car. With the wind at his back and the rain in his eyes, he took aim. Gun in his left hand, he took a moment to line up a shot at the two remaining riders, who were now lagging behind somewhat.

If he decided not to do anything, these demons would not be able to catch up. Strictly speaking, if all they needed to accomplish was the mission, these ones didn't have to die.

But it was not enough that the exorcists would live. The demons had to die.

And so they would.

The priest fired once, narrowly missing a demon by mere inches. The next bullet tore through the rider's chest, and the one after that pierced the horse-thing's neck. With one down, Alistair turned his attention to the sole surviving demon. Without a shred of emotion, the man fired one last time, this bullet splattering skull and brain matter alike. The demon fell to the ground, lifeless.

With four more bullets to spare, Alistair took a moment to survey the surroundings. Finding that the threat had passed, even for a moment, meant that a bit of respite was in order. He let out a sigh, swinging back into the car's interior to get out of the rain. He then closed the door, raindrops still falling through the broken window.

[color=239C89]"...I believe that was the last of them."[/color] The priest said, a bit of satisfaction in his tone. [color=239C89]"Excellent work, everyone."[/color]