Harem Legion: Queens of the Apocalypse

Chapter 252

Bunk wagons, all kinds of converted sleepers—seventy‑eight in total. Thirty‑two box trucks. Forty SUVs. Ten small cranes. Ten infantry carriers... everything lined up in the cold dark like a silent iron tide.

By the time it hit the back half of the night—around three—Ice Regiment was waiting for the rest of the Ridgehaven City meteor‑digging crews to arrive. As planned, Magnus Specter split everyone into ten teams. Each team got seven bunk wagons, one crane, one SUV, and one infantry carrier.

The eight extra bunk wagons were scattered into five usable underground garages. Magnus would hunt; the crew there would catch the blood, roast the meat into jerky, wrap it in plastic sheeting, and bury it inside sacks of meteor soil. Rations for later.

He gave a simple rundown. Most of the team already knew the drill. The ten groups set off one after another. Nearly five hundred people per group. Based on Magnus and Liana Jabbar’s estimation, seventy vehicles could dig about seventy meteors every three hours. Ridgehaven City’s meteor count wasn’t recorded, but going by Ashbrook Town and Hanford City’s numbers, a prefecture‑level city like Ridgehaven should have around seven to nine hundred. Take the middle—eight hundred. Average yield: twenty Crystals per meteor. Roughly sixteen thousand Crystals total. About forty hours of work.

Ideal numbers. Reality would wander, but as long as everyone followed the exact procedure Magnus had tested, there shouldn’t be casualties—at least in theory.

At dawn, around six, Charlotte Renard sent two SUVs back to the main convoy and shuffled in five more logistics sleeper vans—three hundred fifty people—to keep building the steel‑plate sheds.

By eight, the extra bunk wagons arrived. One for each underground garage. Magnus found Abigail Doyle and Emma Doyle.

“Shan, Li... about that...” His voice faltered.

Abigail looked at him steadily. “Say it.”

“I want you two to each take five people. Search around Ridgehaven City for steel factories.”

“No problem,” Abigail said. She took her sister’s hand and headed straight for the infantry carrier. Both sisters could drive one now. Abigail—who hadn’t even gone to college, a girl from a rural village—was steering a high‑tech war machine like it was nothing. There was something bitterly ironic in that.

But it also proved a truth: if someone puts their heart into something, nothing is really out of reach.

Magnus always felt he owed those two. Now they treated him like a stranger. He wanted to call out, to say something—anything—but they were already too far.

A hollow feeling sat heavy in his chest. He exhaled slowly, then called over five more squad leaders, handing out tasks.

Each squad: ten people, two SUVs, two Super Fire Crystals, one box truck.

All five squads had the same mission—search Ridgehaven City’s construction markets and hardware yards. Find usable large trucks, passenger vehicles, generators... Each squad got its own zone. Return once done—or once the Super Fire Crystals were drained.

During the trip in, Magnus had already noticed something off. The streets of Ridgehaven City were empty of large vehicles. The Ridgebreak Battalion headquarters still had fewer than a hundred intact ones after Sophia Reid’s fight here. And each had to be checked one by one.

“Ice,” Magnus called, finding Grace Reid. “Go to Teacher White, get five Super Fire Crystals. There’re maybe a hundred big vehicles in this district that still look intact. I want you to check every one. If it’s still good, mark it. Later, we’ll move them together. When the cranes get back, we’ll hang the steel‑plate sheds on them.”

Grace nodded slightly, lips pressed tight. She’d been meaning to talk to Magnus for days but never found the chance.

“And containers for water... and blood...” Magnus muttered. “That’s a headache. Containers are easy to find. But they’re scattered. If the crew sees one, do they really burn a whole Super Fire Crystal just to hop out and grab it...?”

Magnus Specter moved the way he always did when teaming up with Harper Quinn—quick, in perfect sync, without wasting a second. The night was heavy as he walked out of the underground garage and swung into Harper’s car. Time to hunt mutated animals, starting today with the residential zone around Ridgehaven City’s military headquarters. First target: that chicken.

“Magnus...”

Harper’s voice was low; it had been a long time since she last called him “Captain.” The car stopped in front of a building where a meteorite lay embedded at an angle beside the steps. It was too close to the structure, and the Ice Regiment hadn’t had time to dig it out yet. Curled beside the meteorite was a mutated hen, its feathers a wild mess as if they’d been scorched. Harper grabbed Magnus’s arm and whispered, “You need to be careful this time. I’m sure it’s sitting on some eggs. Don’t let it crush them again.”

Magnus nodded. The past few days had been frustrating—he could never get the eggs. When he wasn’t killing animals he didn’t have time to collect them, and when he was killing them, the mutated creatures always managed to crush their own eggs. It hurt his soul.

This time, he had a new approach. Chase the hen off first. Once it was far enough away, deal with it.

He activated the Fire Crystal, a faint red glow rising around him as he slowly approached the hen. He didn’t rush to stab its eyes this time; instead, he walked from the side so it could clearly see the glow enveloping him.

Just as he’d expected—

The hen, seeing him close in, flapped its wings violently, stood up in alarm, and sprinted off. As it moved, it revealed three round, plump eggs beneath it, each glowing faintly red as if freshly pulled from a fire.

Magnus herded it for more than ten meters. Panicked, the hen darted between two buildings and jammed itself into a narrow gap, struggling to squeeze through.

Perfect.

He didn’t even need to stab its eyes anymore.

Magnus lunged, landing squarely on its back, driving his combat knife hard into its neck.

When alive, these things had flesh as tough as stone. Even with Magnus’s four-times speed, getting the blade in took effort.

The hen thrashed wildly. Magnus clung to the knife handle with both hands, his whole body lifted off the ground as he slid with the creature’s frantic movements. A deafening screech blasted above him, his ears ringing instantly. Gritting his teeth, he slammed both feet against its neck, using the force to swing himself backward, then forward again as he loosened the blade and locked both arms around its throat. The movements flowed as if he’d practiced them for years.

They were techniques he had forced himself to master over the past few days.

Like an octopus, he locked down its neck, letting the Fire Crystal’s heat cauterize the wound. Blood that spurted out began to harden into dark red scabs almost instantly. The hen struggled a few more times, its cries weakening, then its body sagged, head lolling to the side as life left it completely.

This method created a deeper wound, wasted less blood, and was the most efficient technique he’d figured out so far.

Magnus rolled off and landed on his feet, leaning against the corner of the building as he caught his breath. He was drenched in chicken blood, the cold seeping into his bones. He pulled out a small bottle of liquor, took a swig, and felt the burn trail warmly down into his stomach. Better.

Then—

A sudden explosive boom erupted from the direction of Springvale City.

Magnus snapped upright like a bowstring released.

Only one thought shot through his mind—

Not good. That was a grenade!