“Shet atraga gorae” one of the teeming mass shouted in response, his robes flowing wildly in the wind as they charged forwards en-mass.
“Voi shet, Magir!” the horde rose their voices in unholy unison, simultaneously praising their leader and the dark powers they worshipped. Loathsome icons bearing the sigils of Chaos undivided swayed and lurched as their bearers were forced forwards through the press of bodies.
Staccato boltgun fire sounded all down the line as the defenders opened fire from the hastily erected defences, plumes of flames from flamer weapons flashed out and began incinerating the lead elements. Above all the gunfire, shouting and general rumble of battle a hymn of the emperor could be heard, driving those against it into a rage and fortifying the souls of the defenders against the corruption which roiled in waves from the host.
Battle sister Marianne glanced around as she reloaded her boltgun. All around her were her squad, their black power armour shining in the lights of the battlefield. She witnessed sister superior Cecilia calling out firing patterns and communicating on the command vox with Canoness Erzsebet receiving orders.
Marianne heaved herself up above the firing step and opened fire in unison with her fellow boltgun bearing battle sister Germaine. They fired calmly, aiming for each cultists chest before firing and moving onto the next. The mass-reactive shells bursting their un-armoured enemies apart like ripe fruit.
“Sisters, witness the fires of the Emperor's wrath” Sister Helene voxed, and the two other battle sisters stepped aside whilst maintaining their fire rate.
Helene's flamer roared into life and a gout of ignited promethium tore through the space to the cultists and ignited them from head to toe. In their jerky flailing death-throws they managed to ignite several more cultist's robes, these stooped to extinguish the flames, thus lessening the pressure upon the Imperial's line but for a moment as more cultists threw themselves forwards into the gap.
The cultists spat and swore, screaming foul dedications to their gods as they came on. Occasionally over the top of the horde the battle sisters would report sightings of a traitor Astartes, iconography of the Iron Gorgons writ large for all to see. One in particular was approaching close to Cecilia's units location, ghostly winds picking up and howling through with an unearthly screech.
“Bring him down sisters, concentrate fire” Cecilia cried, as her squad found their range and fired bolt after bolt at the hulking traitor. The shells seemed to stop short, rocket trails still glowing with forces and then exploded in a dome around the Space Marine.
“Sister Clarisse, train your Multi-Melta upon the target”, before she could react however, to all the battle sisters horror several of the cultists attacking their neighbouring squad exploded, showering all present with blood and offal.
Moving like a pict out of sync, the daemons which had been summoned launched into close combat and began murdering all the Imperials they could see. Prayers and faith to the Emperor were screamed as carnage descended upon the defences.
Clarisse trained her massive anti-tank weapons upon the nearest figure, blasting it back into the warp in a cloud of super-heated sulphur. It's tainted sword falling towards the floor before being caught up by one of the other daemons which leapt through the cloud and over the atomising line of the Multi-Melta's fire.
Sister Clarisse tried to turn away but wasn't fast enough with the heavy weapon, the daemon pounced and stabbed both swords through her torso sending her collapsing to the ground. This had happened in the span of a few seconds and the other battle sisters were just beginning to react to the daemonic presence in their midst as Sisters Germaine and Helene were hacked down. The chaos blades slicing through their armour and painting the defences with loyalist blood this time.
Loyalist blood which began to boil when it touched the cultists blood from earlier. Even the blood of their faithful was a weapon against the corrupt and tainted.
Superior Cecilia and Sister Marianne retreated shoulder to shoulder from the daemons, firing boltshells into their foes as they came. Each one punching through flesh and bone to explode within the horned fiends as they came. Where one of these rounds would outright kill a mortal human, these daemons seemed to take seven or eight. Behind them the cultists swarmed over the abandoned defences in droves, the Astartes sorceror following in the midst, even as to her horror, Cecilia realised that she could no longer hear the Hymn of the Emperor's Benediction being sung behind her.
Firing her last boltshell, Sister Superior Cecilia engaged her chainsword and stepped forwards to meet the enemy. She swung catching the unearthly creature across the chest and staggering it backwards into the following troops.
It screamed loudly and began thrashing, flakes of flesh peeling off into the air from the wound. As she watched the following daemons also began to flake and discorporate. Momentarily confused she held her guard but didn't advance.
“Superior Cecilia, back into the battle if you please, the Emperor has blessed us this day” Canoness Erzsabet said as she strode up to the two battle sisters with a calm smile upon her face, effortlessly executing a traitor with her plasma pistol, “Look to the skies sisters”.
A radiant aura seemed to be filling the remaining battle sisters with renewed vigour and energy. Looking over the Canoness' shoulder, Marianne glimpsed a miracle, descending from the heavens through bruise coloured clouds was an Imperial Saint made flesh. Her silvered armour flawless, her mighty wings unfurled in full. One hand outstretched to the faithful still fighting, the other clutching an ancient power sword polished to mirror sheen and crackling with barely suppressed killing energy, where she passed the clouds turned purest white. Her very presence anathema to the warp spawned madness they were fighting.
“Saint Eugenie, praise be the Emperor” Marianne whispered.
“Praise be the Emperor” Cecilia echoed, realising that the Hymn which had all but dissipated from her hearing was now louder then ever, drowning out the keening wails of the daemons before her. Powering up her chainsword to full, she launched herself into the mass of enemy before her.
Swings of her chainsword carving through the dissolving daemon unit which had killed her squad. Marianne reloaded her boltgun again and set off after her superior, all the aches of the fighting so far banished from her frame.
Astoundingly, as they beat back the cultists at their former defensive position, their fallen battle sisters stood up and began fighting alongside them, the aura of the saint resurrecting the dead sisters and healing their wounds even as they began to fight once more.
The saint soared overhead, cultists shrieking in fear and recoiling from her presence, only the sorceror stood defiant and unmoving. He reached out a hand and fired dirty orange lightning out at the living saint.
Smoke clouded the vision of the saint for the troops on the ground for a moment. A great cheer went up as she swept on and into combat with the Astartes warrior before her. Blades moving too fast for the eye to see as the two combatants fought with everything they had. In a matter of seconds the fight was over as the saint whirled and tore one of the Astartes arms free with her blade, itself carving through the armoured ceramite as easily as cutting flesh.
The warrior ducked the riposte stroke and retreated from the holy warrior, firing from his bolt pistol as we went. Rather then follow the wounded commander, the saint turned into the horde, flying low she bowled cultist troopers into the air, killing with each strike of her sword or dip of her wings. Each time easing the pressure upon her embattled sisterhood.
“Truly the Emperor is with us this day” Superior Cecilia said to her Canoness, who only nodded in response.
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