"And even if the Iron Warriors are a pack of treacherous beasts, wouldn't it be better to die on the road to one final charge? Or would you rather die in mud churned up by artillery shells?"
The Ecclesiarchy bishop was persuaded. He was a man with a deep martyr complex, and the sisters under his command were much the same. Chaplain Uss had witnessed Battle Sisters and Ecclesiarchy crusaders disregard orders and deployments several times, forcing their way through enemy positions. They left corpses strewn across the ground, earned the unparalleled adoration of Ecclesiarchy fanatics, and severely damaged the morale of the other troops. In their eyes, it had been a disastrous failed assault.
Chaplain Uss found it difficult to comment on the Ecclesiarchy's fervent atmosphere. After all, the battlefield needed people like them to assault the enemy's strongest lines. The grim fortresses built by the Iron Warriors would deter any rational man, and only those blinded by fanaticism could stride into zones saturated with firepower. In a sense, stupidity granted mortals astonishing courage.
But the courage of Space Marines never came from stupidity. They understood everything about the battlefield and knew exactly how they would die. They remained at the most difficult and hopeless places on the battlefield only because the twin virtues of duty and Loyalty sustained their souls.
The Imperium forces trapped within the Iron Warriors' encirclement made their final preparations. Every remaining supply was distributed to units at every level, and even the armored vehicles that the Adeptus Mechanicus had not yet finished repairing were forcibly brought out.
The Black Templars, Cadian Guard, Battle Sisters, and Ecclesiarchy crusaders gathered together, then marched toward the gap in the encirclement.
The moment Marshal Amana crossed the high ground that had repeatedly changed hands between the Black Templars