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ａｎｄ　ｔｈｅ　ｌａｓｔ　ｓｔａｎｄ[hr][/center]
Every ounce of her body screamed in pain as she drew her bow. It wasn't used to combat--not since nearly 12 years ago. Estelle didn't listen to her body. She hadn't since she left her home. Pain was both penance and illusory. Something she ignored. It didn't matter how battered her body had become in the last years of the war. The robes, hoods, and veils she had once worn had been replaced by bandages and scraps of leather-armour. She was nearly unidentifiable, though no longer out of choice.

She couldn't take part in the desperate push towards the central plaza. No, she couldn't hold a shield or sword anymore. But she wasn't of no use. While she rarely participated in battles even after she returned, there was still purpose. Fighting in town was chaotic and messy. Towns were meant to be lived in. Moved around in. They were a place of peace. Demons turned footpaths to ad hoc flanking routes, whether accidental or looking for paths to strike at the vulnerable. And Estelle stood within the alleyways to do as much as she could. The ground shook as a Boogbear followed by a few others ran at her, its large body not allowing another to pass it. One could simply fire blindly and they would hit something in this alley.

It certainly was one way to avoid missing.

Her fingers loosened. Even though the sound of war bellowed throughout the town, a distinct snap and whistle pierced the noise of the battlefield. The Boogbear lifted its weapon to protect itself. Metal crashed at metal as the arrow was deflected upwards from its path towards its chest to its throat.

Despite its thick hide, fat, and muscle to protect it, the Boogbear immediately dropped to its knees as the arrow tip severed its spine. It gurgled as it lurched, the demons behind it struggling to get around as they entangled around his limp body. Estelle turned to run without a second glance. Her run was slow. Yet it was enough to escape. Between the uneven floor and the large dying Boogbear that now blocked an alleyway, her slow pace was more than enough to leave and position herself elsewhere. It was nowhere near how a knight should be fighting. But she was never a knight.