The grapeshot scythes down the cultists in an incarnadine spray, shredding them into something that resembles pulled pork, and smashes others to jelly.

Many icon-bearers fall, but the black armored warriors that are driving the cultists forward begin returning fire, boltguns similar to that of Garviel and the ultramarines, and heavier weapons punching shots up into the sky, bracketing the rewoola, trying to suppress some of the brutal firepower it is bringing to bear.