Third Person's POV
Who was the i***t that said war was glorious? That thrusting your sword into the chest of men, cleaving them into half, taking their heads, getting pushed down, struggling not to get trampled while trying hard to see the sun come down, the moon rise, the moon fall and the sun rise again was glorious?
Oh right, it was his highness. Many times, I am behind him and I can see his charge. He’s very bright, like a halo in the midst of the dirt and grime that was the battlefield. He could afford to say that because various people around him risk their lives to protect him. He can’t die. He’s not expendable. He’s not like me.
Your highness, do you know you are incredibly blind to your surroundings? You pretend to care but you do not look twice when you pass by a dead soldier
