Watching the Man like Death rush forward, the surge of adrenaline, Helena grins. It is a wild sort of smile, uncontrolled. There is something frantic and feral in her, and as the stranger takes the giant surgical blade to attack, Helena spins the knife in her hands, and kicks snow into the fire devil's face to blind it. It roars, enraged by the cold, and Helena moves around it with quick, vicious strikes, moving in and away fast enough that the flames can't bite into her flesh.

It roars, attempts to retreat, and crashes into the giant scarecrow again as it falters in its weakening form.

Trying to lash at the man in his black robes, the scarecrow's remaining arm slashes a severe wound across the fire devil, and Helena exhales a strange, gleeful rasp as it bellows and falters. She is keeping her sestra safe. She will always keep her sestra safe.