The words landed like a stone in still water.
Silence stretched, heavy.
Rook froze, feathers bristling, His throat bobbed.
"…L-Lord Piers," he managed, voice cautious.
"I… am not the village chief. I don't hold the authority to promise wealth or treasures.
And…" His eyes lowered, shame creeping into his sharp features.
Truth be told, "We possess no treasures. No gold. No luxuries. Everything was stripped from us long ago."
He bowed his head, feathery fist trembling.
"But… information—I can offer that. Knowledge of our lands, of our enemies, hidden places untouched by humans. What little we still have.
The others behind him nodded desperately.
Piers stared at him for a moment.
Then—slowly—a devilish grin curved across his lips. His voice dipped to a silken murmur.
"…Then how about we ask your leader directly?"
Rook froze. His breath hitched—and in an instant he dropped his head all the way to the floor.
"Great lord—thank you! I am beyond grateful!"
His voice cracked with raw emotion.
"I am certain my father will accept your conditions!"
Skree lowered her head with controlled grace.
"Your generosity knows no bounds, Lord Piers. We will be eternally indebted."
Rapi and Klak slammed their heads down next.
"Thank you, Lord Piers!"
Piers blinked once, then waved his tiny hand.
Yeah, whatever. I trust you. Just get up already
raven-folk froze mid-bow, struck speechless by the casual dismissal, their gratitude only deepening.
Behind them, Piers's crew exchanged silent looks—each wearing the same deadpan thought.
A collective sweatdrop slid down their temples.
…So much savvy—and he's not even out of toddlerhood.
Just then, the atmosphere cracked under the rapid patter of small footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Bang!
The door burst open so hard it nearly jumped off its rails.
Styx marched in—face huffed, like an angry kitten ready to bite ankles.
"PIEERS! You left me home again!"
She stomped up until her nose was nearly smashing his.
"You're sneaking off on another adventure without me, aren't you? Hmmm?!"
Cold sweat prickled down Piers's temple.
He actually looked nervous.
"N-No, Onee-san! We're just… uh… not going anywhere."
Before Styx could erupt further, Gyuunyuu zipped forward, eager to back him up.
"Yes, Styx! Master is right—we aren't going anywhere! Didn't I promise I'd tell you before we went on an adventure?"
"Oooh…"
Styx blinked, confusion wobbling in her eyes for a heartbeat—
Then—snap!—a bright, toothy grin bloomed across her face.
"Aha! Alright then, I trust you!"
"Everyone except Lien shared the same thought at once:
She's so easy…"
But then—Styx's eyes landed on the kenku-folk
Her grin stretched wider. Too wide.
"Ooooooh!" she squealed, zipping over in a blur.
Before anyone could react, She grabbed Rook's head, mauling his feathers as if he were nothing more than a giant plushie.
Rook stiffened, legs locking in terror, feathers shooting up like spikes.
"You look so cool! Why do you all have crow faces?!"
"WE ARE RAVENS, NOT CROWS!"
Skree, Klak, and Rapi screeched together—voices full of righteous, feathery outrage.
Styx only giggled, continuing to muss Rook's head feathers.
Piers groaned, stepping forward.
He hooked two hands under Styx's arms and lifted her up like a misbehaving kitten.
"Alright, Neesan, let the guests breathe."
"B-But—!" before she could protest, her words left her lips—
FWOOOSH!
A brilliant light enveloped everyone.
Piers, Mutou, Luci, Liel, Lien, Gyuunyuu, Thog, Styx, and even Rook!
They all vanished without a trace.
.
.
.
———
The sky above him—an endless splash of brilliant blue.
A soft puff of wind brushed against Piers's cheek like an invisible hand.
He stirred, blinking slowly as the sticky weight of light lifted from his eyelids.
He lay flat on smooth planks of wood, steady beneath him, no wobble, no danger. Safe.
His nose twitched.
Sniff. Sniff.
Wait.
Why does the air smell … yummy?
He pushed his tongue out, just a tiny bit, tasting the breeze.
Lick.
Huh? Sweet. Not like dry earth back home. or Not the crisp sting of mana.
"…Candy floss?"
The very air tasted like spun sugar.
His stomach gave a happy little growl.
"Piers-sama, are you alright?!"
Liel's voice cut in, panicked and close.
Right beside her, Luci's calm tone followed.
"Do you need assistance with breathing…?"
Piers groaned, rubbing his face.
"Ugh, you two…" He pushed himself up, eyelids snapping open fully.
"Where are we…?"
His gaze swept the space.
Smooth planks.
Wide deck.
Endless horizon.
Then—his eyes snagged on it.
"What the—" He scrambled upright, palms smacking the polished deck.
"WHAT THE FREAKING HELL?!"
The words left his throat in a high-pitched squeak of disbelief.
They were on a colossal ship. A grand, impossible vessel fit for a kingdom's navy—sails billowing, timbers creaking.
Heart pounding, Piers bolted to the railing, tiny fingers clenching the smooth wood until his knuckles whitened.
He leaned over.
His breath caught—then choked into another squeak of denial.
Below, stretching to the horizon in every direction, was no endless blue ocean—
—but a churning, boundless sea of creamy white.
A sea of milk.
Silence blanketed the deck.
His companions stood beside him, wide-eyed, equally dumbstruck.
The absurdity hit like a gut punch.
A ship, drifting proudly across an endless dairy ocean.
Piers's mouth hung open.
His voice cracked when it finally returned.
"…This is ridiculous. Utterly, completely ridiculous."
"Woah… what is this place?"
Lien muttered, wide-eyed.
Without hesitation, he launched himself upward, leaping halfway up the rigging in a single bound.
In seconds, he was perched in the crow's nest, waving both arms like a kid at a festival.
"WOoooooooh!
It's all white! White everywhere!"
He shouted down, his excitement echoing across the deck.
Piers kept staring at the sea below, his tone back to flat.
"If I'm not wrong… maybe we were teleported."
Just then, Styx shrieked, pointing down at the milky sea.
"Whao! Hey, look! It's a pudding fish!"
Piers blinked.
"What are you talking about, Neesan? It's not—"
He turned — actually looked — and his whole face scrunched into pure, weaponized disbelief.
He rushed over to her, grabbing the railing.
"W–WHAT are you doing here?!"
His voice cracked halfway, equal parts panic and exhaustion.
Styx only giggled, practically hanging over the edge to get a closer look at the ripples below.
Piers's gaze slid sideways—
And froze.
There, standing stiff beside her like an anxious scarecrow, was Rook.
Piers pointed at him, eyes wide.
"And YOU! Why are you here too?!"
Mutou stepped forward, calm composure unwavering.
"Young Master," he said, voice steady, "it appears we've been teleported.
To this… sea of milk. The scent confirms it."
Piers slowly turned his head toward him.
Dead stare.
One eyebrow arched to heaven.
"Mutou," he deadpanned,
"can you even smell without a face?"
The deck creaked.
Piers pinched his cheek.
Ow. Not a dream.
Right. Another crazy day.
A day where the sky was sweet, and the ocean was dairy.
The headache was already settling in.
* * *