Harem Legion: Queens of the Apocalypse-Chapter 70 Even Old Flesh Feeds the Fire

Night fell. Magnus activated the Metal Crystal and silently took out three sentries. His speed had taken a massive leap - if he sprinted now, he’d cover 100 meters in just three seconds. Over 30 meters a second. That was a full fourfold boost.

But what he got from those sentries’ dying mouths wasn’t good news. First, it had already been fifteen days - he was starting to worry about the Ice Regiment. Second, the Ryan unit didn’t plan on heading to Springvale City. Magnus had a gut feel - they’d figured out the secret behind the Crystals.

These so-called loyal soldiers hadn’t waited here for orders out of duty. Fifteen days ago, they discovered how the Crystals really worked. The two commanders at the time - both top brass - only one walked away. The surviving one, an Awakened, used a single Metal Crystal to eliminate the other. Now all 1,400 troops answered to him.

They hit village after village, rounding up Crystals and supplies. Thanks to the secret behind the Water Crystal, drinking water was no longer a problem. Grain? Plenty of that too.

After killing the sentries, Magnus holed up in an old security booth at their compound. He wasn’t sure what to do next. If they hadn’t uncovered the secret of the Crystals, he could’ve just taken what he needed by force. But now? If they could all use the Crystals, fighting head-on was suicide.

He thought of the Ice Regiment again, but walking away with his tail between his legs - he couldn’t stomach it. He was the one who handed them the Crystal secrets and even the method to make Fire Beacons. To just bail now? No. Hell no.

If by tomorrow morning he hadn’t gotten what he came for, he’d blow the place sky-high. Before leaving, he’d make damn sure they’d feel it. Maybe start by leveling their damn barracks.

Once he dealt with the corpses, Magnus stayed in the booth for another two hours, thinking through his options. When shift change rolled around, he slipped on a bulletproof helmet to avoid being recognized by the new guy.

If sneaking worked, great. If not? One more body wouldn’t matter.

"Alright, my shift’s over. Your turn," the replacement called out, pushing the door open while patting his belly. With full access to food and clean water, the soldiers were living well now. At least the rice meals were abundant.

"Yeah," Magnus grunted lowly, turning to leave.

"Wait - Peter!" the man said, grabbing Magnus’s arm. He halted, hand twitching toward the knife hidden in his sleeve.

"Ha... Listen, don’t say I didn’t share the goods," the soldier whispered with a greasy grin. "When it’s your turn to unwind, hit the fourth floor, left side. Girl in that room? Screams louder than the rest. Way better than those old bats they drag in. Just don’t touch the dried meat at dinner. Give it to Captain’s errand boy - he’ll hook you up."

"Got it," Magnus said flatly, voice steady. Then he snatched the torch by the door and stepped out into the night.

Only half a month into the world ending, and they’d already set up a slave camp for women? Magnus’s lip curled. That poor woman was likely a survivor dragged in from one of the looted villages. No wonder he said "better than those old ladies."

Not even the elderly were spared. These scumbags weren’t soldiers anymore - they were worse than Cliff ever was.

Murder stirred in his chest, but not yet. Not tonight. Tomorrow morning, they’d pay. This garrison building had four sections, each with two guards stationed inside the doorway. Holding a torch, Magnus walked slowly through the corridor, mind racing.

Only place he could go now was the canteen. He had no clue where the dorm of the guards he killed was, so public areas anyone could access were his only option.

First... second... third... As he passed between the third and fourth sections, Magnus glanced around and, seeing no one, pulled a small bottle of liquor from his pocket. He took a swig, spilling the rest all over his clothes.

Swaying, he staggered to the fourth section’s door and pushed it open. Two guards immediately blocked his path. "Password!"

Even through their helmets, the stench of booze hit them. "Damn, how much did you drink?" one growled, frowning. "Are you tired of living? Drinking on duty?"

"Drinking? So what!" Magnus shoved one aside, voice rising. "I got no home, no wife. My best friend got eaten by a monster last week! What the hell am I still living for? Go ahead! Pull that damn trigger!"

In the end times, family loss hit everyone hard. The two guards exchanged a glance, sighing inwardly.

Just as one opened his mouth to speak, Magnus, bold as hell, unbuckled his pants right there at the entrance, ready to piss.

"Hey, you! Hell no! You bastard, go to the canteen toilet! You do that here, what the hell are we supposed to do, huh? Shit, get your ass outta here, go to the second floor!"

"Second floor... canteen..." Magnus mumbled drunkenly, grabbing the staircase railing and wobbling upward. As soon as he moved out of their line of sight, he paused. Eyes narrowing, he glanced at the open door to the canteen above. Voices spilled out.

Inside, no one paid him any mind. Magnus scanned his surroundings. It was just a normal residence turned dining hall. Five tables in the living room, packed. Three bedrooms - one door closed, smoke curling from under it - clearly the kitchen.

The two other rooms served different purposes. One, a food line, had seven or eight soldiers waiting. The other had guards at the door - likely an officers’ private dining room.

Entry to the building needed a password, something Magnus could fake. But to eat here, you needed a meal ticket. He noticed every soldier in line was holding a red-stamped paper the size of a palm.

"Hey, brother..." Magnus stopped a soldier who just walked in, slipping him a Snickers bar. "Mind helping me out? I forgot my meal ticket today."

The soldier looked at him like he was stupid. A chocolate bar... just to trade for some plain rice and awful soup?

"Sure, no problem!" the guy grinned, handing over a ticket.

Meal tickets were cheap among soldiers. When someone died, their remaining month’s tickets got split by the survivors. Most had more than they could eat; a single ticket was worth two smokes, tops.

A few words later, Magnus had made the guy half a friend. They went to grab food together - one bowl of rice, one bowl of soup, and a chunk of cured pork the size of a lighter.

No seats left, they found a spot against the wall and sat on the floor.

Magnus smirked to himself. If just a slab of pork could keep these young guys satisfied with "girls," then he’d make sure they got something a little more "exciting" real soon...