The whole time, Atticus had been entirely unaffected by the waves of oncoming souls. Every time one of the frothy white clouds approached him, he would blast it away without a scrap of effort. His march towards the gateway of Hell was entirely unhindered, and he pressed onwards like an unstoppable force. With clouded eyes and an empty look on his face, Atticus didn't even react to the preoccupied army at his back, focusing only on his one command.
Until he was suddenly tackled to the ground by a flying red angel.
Even though he was actively going against her, Bentley still didn't dare to aim a direct attack on Atticus. She couldn't conjure any weapons, nor throw any spells at him. His mind may have been elsewhere, but his body was still the same, and Bentley couldn't bring herself to do any direct harm to it when the owner wasn't around to properly defend himself. So she could only tackle him around the waist and throw him off course as best as she could.