The sea is unbelievably vast.
Vaster than the White River, vaster than the Gorgon River, vaster than any river or lake on land.
Byron stood on the high platform of the "Curiosity" front deck, letting the cold sea breeze hit his face, the salty scent of the sea water blowing into his nostrils, that infinitely extending body of water in his vision undulating in front of the ship's bow, the sound of waves crashing, the wind, the mechanical sound of the ship, the calls of unknown seabirds, all surrounded him from all directions.
He turned back for a glance, seeing the sailors busy at their posts on the ship, with technical personnel checking the connection between the Magic Energy Wingboard and the deck machinery. That Naga "Philosopher" with deep, melancholic eyes was observing distant weather conditions through some kind of magical device, and in the waves alongside the ship, there were a few beautiful and ghostly figures swimming back and forth.
