Inside the pin, unadorned little box were two types of potions. Oran handed two vials each to Ivankov and Ginny.

  “What’s this?”

  Ginny held the gss vial above her head. Under the sunlight, the faint purple specks within the liquid seemed to shimmer even brighter.

  “This is Glimmer—a product of Zaun’s alchemical science.”

  Zaun, like Piltover, was the name of a region. They were once one, but for various reasons, they’d split into two.

  Piltover focused on advancing Hextech, while Zaun gave rise to a unique brand of alchemy. Though Oran lived in Piltover, he had deep ties to Zaun.

  He never saw Piltover as inherently nobler, nor did he think Zaun’s technology was backward. Instead, he took the best from both worlds and used them wisely.

  “Glimmer… what a beautiful name. It looks pretty too. I wonder what it tastes like.”

  Ginny licked her lips. To her, if something looked good, it probably tasted good too—a simple thought born from years of barely having enough to eat.

  “It’s not for eating. I’m giving you these just in case things go south.”

  No one knew what they'd encounter on the isnd. Even if Ivankov and Ginny had rebellious streaks, at the end of the day, they were still just kids.

  Unlike those famous figures from the main timeline, even a moderately trained soldier could overwhelm them.

  Oran did have stronger weapons. But on this vast sea, personal strength carried tremendous weight. Giving someone like Ginny or Ivankov a powerful weapon might backfire—it could fall into enemy hands, turning into a ticking time bomb.

  “This small vial is for healing wounds. If you’re badly injured, it might just save your life.”

  That was Glimmer’s original purpose—treating injuries and diseases. It was developed by the alchemist Singed, who extracted a new substance from the bodies of mutated lizards he bred.

  Just a drop could produce potent effects.

  Using a formu he’d obtained from a dreamworld, Oran had modified Glimmer’s composition—tempering its potency and eliminating its addictive side effects. The trade-off was a higher production cost.

  But given how difficult it was to acquire ingredients from mutated lizards, you could even argue the cost had gone down.

  “This is good stuff,” Ivankov said, carefully pocketing the vial. “What about the big one?”

  In times like these, a potion like this was practically a second life. Both Ivankov and Ginny tucked theirs away with utmost care, then turned their eyes toward the second syringe.

  “You’d better hope you never have to use that one. It’s for when you’ve got no way out. If you’re cornered, jab it straight into your heart—it might give you a shot at survival.”

  Maybe it was just human nature, but whenever something new came into the world, the first thought was always, Can it be used in war? Then, maybe… something more depraved.

  Glimmer was no exception. Over time, its applications had grown more dangerous. Take too much, and your body would undergo wild, unstable mutations.

  Even the improved version Oran made still had that effect. Injecting a full dose directly into the heart would transform the body—reviving it, supercharging it, and unlocking a new kind of strength… though no one knew exactly what that power would be.

  The retionship between Zaun and Piltover was messy, even hostile. Compared to the shining city above, Zaun was seen as inferior. Glimmer was Zaun’s answer to that divide—its weapon against the upper city.

  “We don’t have a proper army. No elite fighters. All we have left… is our own flesh and blood.

  This potion burns your life force, turns your body into a better weapon. At the very least, it gives you a chance to fight back.”

  Burning life force. Those words said it all. Oran hated unstable tools like this—he’d never use them if the situation weren’t this dire.

  “Still sounds like good stuff to me,” Ivankov chuckled, lips curling into a crooked smile. “If it really comes to that… better this than just lying down and dying.”

  To say he wasn’t afraid would be a lie.

  But what Ivankov feared even more than death… was being powerless. Ginny felt the same way.

  After storing the potions, the two followed a local from the Valley of the Gods and headed off in another direction. Meanwhile, Oran regrouped the remaining personnel and made his way toward a nearby granary.

  Some time ter, Oran and his team arrived at a warehouse nestled within the canyon. It was a decent distance from where Oran’s bck ship had first appeared.

  The locals of the Valley of the Gods had converted a natural cavern into storage. Thanks to the terrain, it acted like a giant refrigerator. A thick iron gate sealed the entrance, secured with massive chains.

  Ka-chak.

  With a sharp snap, a shark Fishman bit through the chains. The iron links crumbled in his jaws like brittle crackers.

  “Shark, nicely done. That’s some impressive racial talent—the bite force of a shark Fishman really is something else.”

  “Th-Thank you for the compliment, Oran! You know… no one’s ever praised me like that before!”

  The Fishman, who usually wore a menacing scowl, suddenly looked bashful and flustered. That praise clearly thrilled him. More than the words themselves, it was Oran’s tone—genuine admiration, not the prejudice he’d come to expect from humans.

  “Don’t get too excited. We’ve still got a lot of work ahead. But someday, when things settle down, I want you to take me to Fishman Isnd. I’ve always wanted to see that deep-sea paradise for myself.”

  “Yeah… I’d like that.”

  Together, the group pushed open the heavy doors. Light spilled into the cavern, revealing rows upon rows of neatly stacked crates. A quick inspection showed that the food was well-preserved. The local managers hadn’t skimmed off supplies or stashed anything for themselves.

  Oran had actually been worried this might be an empty warehouse. That would’ve been a real headache.

  But not only was it fully stocked—he even found rge amounts of white sugar.

  “Everyone, grab as much sugar as you can. Prioritize dried meats and anything that can st. Take what you can carry—we don’t know when we’ll get another chance to come back!”

  “Oran… do you have a sweet tooth or something?”

  Bear was currently hauling a massive pack on his back—easily twice his height. Shark was doing the same, with sacks even hanging off his belt.

  The giant strength of the Buccaneer bloodline, and the natural tenfold might of a Fishman’s arms—both were proving vital on this road of survival.

  But Bear didn’t quite get it. He liked sweet things just fine, but sugar wasn’t exactly filling.

  “Bear, sugar isn’t just about taste. It has plenty of uses. Especially in times like these… it’s a critical strategic resource.”