To the world, my soldiers were a wall. To me, they were a delicate clockwork of fear, pride, and muscle. I spent my middle years perfecting the "Veda Doctrine." Most generals believe that training a man involves breaking his spirit. I believed the opposite. A broken man will run when the fire gets hot; a man who has been forged, however, will stand until he melts.
I spent hours in the mud with the recruits. I wanted them to see that their High General's armor was as dented as theirs. I taught them that the spear was an extension of the soul. If your soul is clouded by doubt, the spear will wobble. If your soul is sharp with purpose, the spear will find the heart of a god.
I developed the "Breathing Square." In this formation, the men would inhale as they raised their shields and exhale as they stepped forward in unison. The sound of ten thousand men exhaling at once was more terrifying than any war cry. It was the sound of a machine that did not know how to stop. It was here I realized that the greatest weapon a general possesses is not steel, but the collective will of men who have decided that they are already dead.