Varian had long understood one simple truth.
If a great general died, the whole kingdom would mourn his death. And a duchy mourns for its duke and a province for its lord.
But even a nameless soldier who would die in the very instance of the war had people waiting for him back home.
People who would wail over his dead body, remember him in their memories and keep loving him long after his death.
The emptiness in their hearts wouldn't discriminate based on the post the man held. The death of a father would always be painful, whether the father was a general, a peon or a teacher. So would the death of a husband, a brother, a son.
And these men that keep dying every second were indeed all these things to their people.
"My grandchild's soul will only get peace if you die an ugly death!"
Seraphina's outburst was purely a grandmother's anguish.