At the forefront were the Confessor Engines.
These bipedal war machines were typically used to punish the sinners, yet many Sisters willingly chose to bind themselves to these machines. Therefore, the Confessor Engines didn't really care who was hung in front, as long as they were fulfilling their purpose.
So, even if not too many Sisters were needed, they could still operate a large number of Confessor Engines.
Of course, since this was voluntary, the Ecclesiarchy would never casually share the honor of fighting alongside Confessor Engines with outsiders.
The ones affixed to the front of the machines were devout believers wearing weeping iron masks.
Some were overcome with emotion, while others wept in shared guilt from their connection to the machines. Despite the oppressive sobbing that should have filled the air, it mixed together to drown out the blasphemous whispers that assailed their ears.
Behind them was the Combined Armored Detachment, primarily composed of Rhinos and Punisher Tanks.
These vehicles served as the spearhead and had their unique advantages, modified from conventional Rhinos and Predator Tanks… To put it more plainly, these expensive vehicles typically appeared in the armored forces of the Space Marines, boasting exceptional performance.
Further back were the deployed Sentinels, Leman Russ Tanks, and Chimeras, occasionally interspersed with a few Dune Crawlers and Castellan Robots. The entire procession lacked a single infantryman on foot.
However, this didn't mean that the infantry numbers in the detachment were small… On the contrary, there were far too many.
Overhead, Amelia was suspended with the help of her jump pack, moving forward at a steady pace with the convoy. Below her, the tops of the armored vehicles and tanks were crowded with Zealots shouting praises.
Each vehicle was topped with an armed priest raising flags or holy icons, surrounded by armed fanatics piled on the roofs, some singing hymns while others prayed in silence.
Upon closer inspection, Zhang Ge noticed that even some Crusaders were among them.
To understand what had occurred, one needed to rewind time to when Amelia first arrived at the Cathedral.
She had burst into the main church demanding that the bishops hand over the majority of the vehicles for the Sisters of Battle.
Although she certainly had the authority, her request was immediately denied in the first instance.
An authority was just that; these vehicles were, after all, precious assets of the entire Ecclesiarchy. There simply weren't enough battle sisters qualified to operate these vehicles left; what use would there be in reallocating them? Were they to be given to others?
That would be a desecration of sacred relics, and furthermore, they needed them for their own purposes.
The two sides had even erupted into a brief argument.
Until Amelia could take no more.
Since entering the stronghold, she had presented a restrained demeanor to the outside world, but now, she unleashed her power without reservation.
Just like before, when she had obliterated the suburbian cult, the faint halo reappeared behind her, and her sword shone like a stream of light held in her grasp.
However, just as the halo illuminated the room, before she could bring the sword down on any desks or chairs to express her determination to commandeer the vehicles, the bishops witnessing the scene quickly changed their expressions, immediately adopting a "but on the other hand" look.
Once the mood shifted, they readily permitted her to take anything from their stock, even seeming almost eager for her to leave with as much as possible, the only request being that she maintain this powerful aura as she exited the Cathedral.
...So it was easy to imagine what Amelia looked like when she left.
Groups of Zealots, crying and abandoning their defenses, chased after the convoy, with only the strongest and luckiest managing to clamber onto the roofs of the vehicles without being dragged down by the throngs.
Originally, the convoy was supposed to carry around ten thousand combat personnel, but now it appeared that the numbers would be doubled at the very least.
As Zhang Ge looked at the approaching surging crowd, he couldn't help but feel the world around him fade momentarily to darkness.
Had he known it would turn out , he should have done everything he could to keep Amelia there, instead of foolishly hoping for a chance to strike while she was away.
It would have been better to let Dominika wear the jump pack; by the time she returned for aid, the situation wouldn't have escalated to what it was now.
Of course, the convoy's conspicuous movements did not only attract the attention of allies.
In the sky, dozens of shells fired from cannons hurtled down in a rapid descent, arcing towards the crowded vehicles in a parabolic trajectory.
As they descended ferociously, seemingly unstoppable, those vicious projectiles were about to erupt in flames, devouring countless believers below.
Suddenly, a faint blue membrane appeared.
The Ion Shield Generators, dragged along by the convoy, buzzed with energy, coming into effect.
Under the directional protective energy shield, the otherwise indomitable shells transformed into mere firework displays in mid-air. One by one, they detonated harmlessly, tearing through the night sky only to dissipate into nothingness shortly after.
After a period of travelling, the convoy finally converged beneath the tower, and Amelia could greet Zhang Ge as she approached him.
A few people stepped aside to make way for her, and Zhang Ge spoke first:
She seemed to understand what Zhang Ge was about to say, responding:
"I hid before to avoid being prematurely exposed and risk a decapitation. But now that we've come this far, a direct confrontation with the enemy is inevitable."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Ge, who had thought things had reached an impasse, suddenly felt a glimmer of hope.
Yes, winning doesn't equal surviving.
In fact, the greater the pressure imposed on the enemy, the higher the likelihood that they would attempt a decapitation based on their single combat advantages. And who was standing opposite him at that moment? Most likely a Chaos Space Marine of captain-level rank.
If he decided to bring a Terminator squad for a decapitation strike, who could stop him?
With this thought, Zhang Ge's initial helpless expression shifted to one of concern and warmth as he sincerely grasped Amelia's hand, continuing:
Outside, due to the arrival of so many Zealots at this site, even the communications interference caused by Chaos within the unit had restored itself, allowing the various ranks of commanders rare access to audio array communications for information exchange.
However, this communication did not last long, as the established Whistle Commands for relaying important information signaled the end of proactive communications, which fell silent once more.
This silence spread quickly like a calm breaking out in a noisy classroom, swiftly engulfing the previously cacophonous unit.
For a moment, the night seemed eerily silent, leaving only the sounds of comrades breathing and the low hum of vehicle engines.
Everyone awaited the signal to arrive.
In the almost suffocating stillness, whether a moment or an eternity passed, a sharp, persistent whistle finally pierced the air.
It broke through the layers of ceramite shackles, sweeping through every heart like an echo, causing the frozen silence of the night to boil over.
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