Whistle. Whistle. Whistle.
The Captain leaned his body side-to-side as he kept a steady hold on the wheel of his stern, whistling as his black coat fluttered behind him.
His ship rode calmly over the small tides, carried by the winds that seemed to push his boat further than it should.
As his sails, which seemed to be stitched and put together by a variety of different kinds of cloth, fluttered, the distance to their destination only became shorter.
While this was happening, Lillian was lying on top of what any regular person would describe as an overly large treasure chest—this was the thing she had retrieved from inside the stomach of the Leviathan.
When she had brought it back to the ship, she had to fend off the Captain from prying its lid open, while also denying any form of questions about it.
If she was so adamant about not letting people open it, why didn't she just store it inside one of the spatial rings she had?
'Any time now...'
