Meaning no harm the townspeople, of all the cities within the empire, said goodbye to their sons, fathers and husbands that soon were to wage war against the enemies of the nation. Like all of the civilians, a little girl raised her hand and waved it in the air excited, very happy, because her brother and father were going to eliminate the evil enemy. Her innocence was a foolish imitation of her mother and neighbors attitude of patriotism, something she knew nothing at her short 4 years of age. Little she knew, as the rest of the civilians, that their loved ones would never be able to return, at least not alive. Little they knew that their leader was sending them into oblivion.
A girl waving her hand with a big smile, one of the many images a soldier would remember when he has passed on; a memory that would fill that empty place of his heart when his army is wiped out and he ends as the only survivor of the whole battalion. Months of travel over the desert of the sea, with life surrounding him, just to arrive to a forest of soldiers with death stepping in front of him, with every second of the day going behind him, and by the end of the day have met death or loneliness.
Memories turned into dreams of blood by the time of their deaths and turned into tears by the time they reach loneliness on the battlefield. Wielders of the weapons of mass destruction built by humans to destroy humans, powered by the energy of demi-gods, useless weapons against that energy on its pure form. Invincible behind the controls of the magitek weapons but yet so fragile behind them. Ignorant soldiers following orders of a man who dares to use what he doesn't really understand: defying the gods.
Conquering foreign lands and turning them into their own; burning down towns, killing warriors, men, women and children, all under the same order. Destroying castles and refuges, fighting survivors and rebel forces; occupying towns and cities, closing down mayor roads, torching down bridges and cutting all forms of communication and transportation. Is all that this formidable army of puppets does under one order: an order heard by their ears and echoing on their hearts. An order heard on one speech and preached like a commandment of the gods. An order turned into a song, sung on every camp and battlefield, with choirs of joy and victory; a song that has all this army dancing mad.