Crimson Flags & Razor Blades

The stench of cheap perfume and stale sweat adhered to Millie like a second skin. Eighteen years in the Red District, and its sickly-sweet odour was the only scent she recognized. There was no recollection of warmth or loving hands; the only thing that remained was a tattered box lined with faded, crimson flags. It was a makeshift cradle that had been abandoned at the front door of Madam G's brothel.Madam G had stitched those scraps into a jacket for her—a garish, shapeless thing Millie wore dutifully. Over the course of her life, she had accumulated an increasing number of layers and flags, which grew to the point where it flowed behind her like a bloody river. "Little Red Flags Riding Hood," the men sneered at her. A whisper that conjured images of seductive looks and hefty wallets, her name had transformed into Vermillion.But Madam G was her grandmother, for better or worse. Her pimp, her mentor. The one who bathed her tiny, abandoned form and raised her to be the crown jewel of

The liberation of Bremen was not an instantaneous conclusion to a fairy tale. As a result of a lifetime of fear, the citizens of the town regarded their improbable saviors with a mistrustful gaze. The doors to their homes remained closed, and their voices were barely audible above a whisper. Millie and her group of misfits found themselves in the position of overcoming not only an external threat but also a much more subtle one—the terror that ate away at the soul of a people.The transformation was gradual, resulting from a combination of inconspicuous actions and unyielding determination. Gunner, with his gentle eyes and scarred muzzle, became an unofficial guardian. Children were the first to approach him because they were drawn to his quiet strength. Soon after, the other person left tentative offers of stale bread at his side and exchanged hesitant smiles.Jack, who has always been a tenacious beast, discovered a new purpose for his life. Through his tireless efforts, he was ab

The citizens of Bremen held their breath. Rather than the sound of birdsong, the dawn brought with it the ringing sound of blades being drawn and the chilling cries of The Kid's hunting party. With her band standing on either side of her, Millie stood unflinching, her red cloak shining like a crimson banner in the rising sun.The initial confrontation was extremely violent. Jack, the obstinate beast of burden, engaged in a whirlwind of kicks and blade work against twin mercenaries. They were formidable opponents. There was a blurring of their movements, with each one mirroring the other with lethal precision.Jack's strength started to wane as a result of the fluid brutality; he received a blow to the side and a slash across the flank. However, at that precise moment of vulnerability, a whirlwind of claws and black fur suddenly began to emerge. Luna struck, her dagger sinking into the back of one of the mercenaries as she shielded Jack with her slender frame. She was as light as a wra

Over the course of Millie's hesitant leadership, Bremen underwent a transformation. The Wolf Slayer, who was accustomed to surviving by herself, struggled under the weight of the responsibility of having to collaborate with others in order to achieve a common objective. Still, she was unable to deny the subtle changes that were occurring in the faces of those around her. In spite of this, there was a stubborn, steely light that was tempered with fear. She was no knight in shining armour, but she was what they had.The first thing she had to do was make sure that the remaining parts of the town were safe. As a result of her meticulous instructions, the citizens of the town strengthened the crumbling walls by weaving thorns and shards of metal through the gaps. This was done to prevent any holes that could allow the bandits to easily enter and exit the town.Jack, with a surprising amount of gentleness, led the rebuilding of homes, the sturdy beams of which were a testament to his unbre

As a result of the twins' knowledge, the Black Market went from being a mysterious threat to a complex maze. They knew the regular buyers—twisted nobles with a taste for the forbidden, slavers seeking untouched flesh, and shadowy figures whispering of sacrifices pleasing to unknown, nameless gods in the north. But their most valuable asset was a map—not of locations, but of schedules. The Witch, for all her power, was a creature of greed, and greed had a predictable rhythm.Their plan hung by a thread. Millie would play the distraction. Garbed in stolen silks, she'd lure in the merchants, bartering false secrets of a hidden gold hoard in exchange for whispers about the next exchange from the regular customer, the wicked noble, where the children of Bremen would be offered like livestock to a nasty noble. Meanwhile, John and Margaret would use the chaos and their familiarity with the terrain to strike at the hearts of the caged victims after they were bought by the noble and his small