After the battle, the men held a rowdy celebration.
Vermeil was undergoing a bit of a culture shock to see the formerly polite and respectful soldiers suddenly sing loud drunken songs.
However, she was not in such a jovial mood.
The horrors of the war she'd just witnessed were still lingering in her mind. She didn't understand how these people could be so carefree despite everything they had just gone through.
"It's strange, isn't it?"
Vermeil was spurred from her thoughts by the sudden arrival of her mentor, Vance.
The two were sitting on a hastily prepared bench, overlooking the massive celebration in front of them.
"When I first arrived here almost fifty years ago, I too thought these people were insane for celebrating so quickly after a battle.
It was not until I'd been here for a while that I realized that this was almost like their way of grieving. They celebrate in remembrance of their comrades and families that they have lost to the fallen. And they drink to commemorate the fact that in surviving another battle, they have avenged them."
Vermeil fell into a deep thought. "Do you ever think... maybe we don't have to fight them? This did all stem from some sort of misunderstanding after all..."
Instead of actually being upset with her question, Vance was actually glad to see the newest of the twelve was so compassionate.
It was a trait he wished was shared amongst more of the heroes brought to this world.
"You aren't the first to think like that, I too thought the same way long ago. It's easy to think the fallen can be reasoned with, especially since some of them are so human like."
Vermeil once again recalled the scene of the beast men shifting back into their human forms once they'd been defeated and her gaze unconsciously darted to the tent where three prisoners were being kept.
"But you must remember we have tried to negotiate with them before and it has always failed. The fallen are vile, monstrous creatures that we, the races of light simply cannot coexist with." Vance warned.
It was good that Vermeil had some empathy but she had to know that some things are simply unavoidable.
If she did not learn soon that the fallen were not to be trusted, she could very well lose her life to one of them.
Such a thing was not what the world needed, especially not when they were so close to winning the war for good.
The white haired saintess nodded slowly and tried to take Vance's words to heart. She could feel that they were truly coming from a place of consideration and concern.
Vance patted the young woman lightly on the shoulder. "Try to have some fun with the men. We can resume your training in the morning."
The hulking man stood up and walked away to join his soldiers in another round of drink and song.
Vermeil almost went to join them but ultimately decided she was more comfortable siting on the bench for now.
As the day slowly turned into night, she still had yet to move from her seat. The one thing that did change however was that she now wore a small smile on her face and seemed to be getting more comfortable with her surroundings.
Just when she was finally about to join the merry band, she spotted one drunken soldier who stumbled his way inside of a very specific tent.
At first, Vermeil thought maybe he might've made a simple drunken mistake.
But after a few minutes had gone by, she began to get the feeling that something was wrong.
Getting up from her seat for the first time in hours, Vermeil felt her bones pop as she walked hastily towards the tent set up on the outskirts of the camp.
As she got closer and closer, she began to hear muffled screaming and the vague sounds of a struggle.
Throwing open the flaps, it was just as she feared.
The drunken soldier was on top of the werewolf princess with his pants halfway down.
Her cultivation had already been sealed and her hands were tied behind her back to prevent her from clawing his eyes out.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Get off her!!" Vermeil waisted no time rushing forward and burying her heel a few inches into his ass.
"GYAAA!!"
The man rolled around in anguish, inadvertently flashing the saintess his baby carrot.
Unfortunately that would only earn him another stomp only this one would be on a much more exposed area.
The man let out another unsightly howl and by now he had sobered up enough to realize who his attacker was.
"S-Saintess??"
"Stop talking to me with your wiener out!" Vermeil launched another well placed kick and the sounds of two distinct popping noises could be heard followed by more horrid screaming.
"Get the fuck out of here!" she ordered.
This was the first time in her life that she had gotten so upset with anyone but her heart was too shaken by the scene she'd just witnessed.
The drunken rapist crawled out of the tent leaving Vermeil and the prisoners alone.
Vermeil turned around to see the werewolf princess had crawled on her knees towards her two bodyguards who had also been taken hostage.
One was a brown skinned woman with hair as white as milk and the other was a much paler woman with hair of the same color. Like the princess, their mouths were gagged and their hands were tied.
But both of them were shielding their disheveled princess and giving the intruder distrustful glares.
Normally, Vermeil would have left the girls alone but something within her was now telling her that doing such a thing was not the right way to go about things.
No matter what, she had to let these girls know that they were going to be okay.
Despite the glares and growled she was receiving from the two bodyguards, she walked forward with a friendly smile on her face and squatted down in front of them.
"Hello... My name is Vermeil. I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"
From behind the two girls, the werewolf princess looked up with teary eyes at the strange human girl in front of her.
"I'm going to take those gags out. They don't really look all that comfortable." Vermeil attempted to smile and crack a light joke but the air was still very tense.
Taking a deep breath, the human girl reached out slowly and carefully for the fallen women in front of her.